


Lines

by treesramblings



Series: Lines Verse [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel 3490, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: (very briefly) - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always A Woman Tony Stark, Avengers Family, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes & Winter Soldier are Different Personalities, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Avengers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremis Tony Stark, F/M, Genderswap, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealous Winter Soldier, Jealousy, Language Kink, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nipple Piercings, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Praise Kink, Romance, Rule 63, Russian Natasha Romanov, Sharing a Bed, Spanking, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Sub Tony Stark, Suicidal Thoughts, Teasing, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Top Bucky Barnes, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24643816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesramblings/pseuds/treesramblings
Summary: “If you want—and feel free to say no, everyone and their mothers know that I’m the queen of offering too much where I’m not wanted—but, if you want…” Toni hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and then continues, “well, that’s the longest period of uninterrupted sleep I’ve had since last week, which was also with you, and—twice is a coincidence, but maybe we could test to see, uh, see if it’s a pattern? Only if you want; I’m not trying to guilt you into it. In fact, forget I said anything. This is a horrible idea. I’m just going to leave—”She’s stopped by his fingers slipping into her palm as he's suddenly standing in front of her. “Okay,” he whispers.The tension that had built up in her body releases all at once and she looks up into his eyes, the ever present churn of emotion swirling enchantingly, tenderly.“Okay,” she responds, and his hand glides from hers as he turns away. She aches with the missing weight.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Toni Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Natasha Stark/James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark (past), Winter Soldier/Tony Stark
Series: Lines Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822612
Comments: 63
Kudos: 510





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mutually Assured Destruction (Touch)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15675138) by [Half_SubmergedinPurgatory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_SubmergedinPurgatory/pseuds/Half_SubmergedinPurgatory). 



> There will be five parts of this work. Tags will be added as chapters are posted. (:
> 
> Mega thanks to the [Stuckony Discord Server](https://discord.gg/jtXcc3n) for the pompoms and support! x
> 
> Regarding the suicidal thoughts tag, it's something that is vaguely alluded to, but in my opinion isn't explicit. If you'd like to know more about it, feel free to message me!
> 
> For Russian text, hover over it on PC to see the English translation. For mobile, they will be in the chapter end notes. MAJOR props and kudos to [Lena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welcoming_Disaster) for helping me fix my Russian! Any remaining mistakes are definitely my own.
> 
> Please enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter beta is Maya, who is amazing x

The sun is brightly shining, nary a cloud in sight, when the call from Fury comes through.

“You do know what a vacation is, right? Just ‘cause we’re in D.C. doesn’t mean we’re at your beck and call,” Toni snarks into the receiver, an amused huff sounding behind her. She glances over and smirks at Steve.

“I need you both to stay in D.C.,” Fury says, ignoring her jib.

“ _Vacation_ , Fury. The most we’re gonna do is visit the Smithsonian and, I don’t know, feed ducks at a pond. Dinosaurs love that sorta thing, right?” Her giggling changes to laughter as Steve grabs her waist and pulls her close with a gentle noogie.

“Stark. Something is happening at SHIELD and I’d really appreciate it if you would _listen_ to me. I already have Hill on the way, but the extra backup would be—”

A sudden crashing noise echoes from the phone. Steve instantly tenses against her. Toni’s smirk disappears.

“Fury? What was that?” More crashes sound from the phone as Fury groans and the call drops. Toni snarls in rage and pulls up her contacts. “JARVIS! Get me a lock on Fury’s location, now!”

Steve releases her, running over to get suited up. Toni wants to comment on him bringing it with him on vacation but decides it’s not really the time or place. She feels thrumming under her skin, the Bleeding Edge armor reacting to her anger, and breathes out, pulling it out of her body, surrounding her.

“I’ve sent the location to you, Miss. A live satellite feed shows multiple police cruisers and SWAT teams corralling him, although reports show no units in that area,” JARVIS informs her. Steve shows up in her space again, the suit firmly in place and the shield on his back. Toni takes note of the concern and anger in his eyes, the same she’s sure are in hers, and nods decisively.

“Come on, Capsicle. Let’s go fix whatever mess Fury’s gotten himself into.”

* * *

They arrive at the scene just in time to see someone approaching Fury’s overturned car. Toni barely stops to drop Steve next to the SUV before she’s plowing into the attacker.

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised, really, when his mask falls off and it’s _James Buchanan Barnes_ staring into her eyes.

* * *

As soon as Bucky—god, _Steve’s best friend_ —processes who she is, his attack pattern instantly changes. He ignores Fury, ignores a shell-shocked Steve, and starts hammering away at her. JARVIS is a caged animal, a protective voice, in the back of her mind, and it takes almost everything she has to stop Bucky from ripping the suit off of her.

There’s a brief moment where they pause, staring across the street at each other, when Steve steps forward, his steps shaky, and gasps out, “Bucky?”

A flicker of emotion passes through his eyes as he turns to look at Steve and asks, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Toni’s breath catches in her throat.

* * *

Steve is knocked out on the ground, his shield just out of reach of his hand where it fell, and Toni tries her best not to hurt Bucky, to protect Steve, to protect Fury, all while trying to protect herself.

She slips up. He tackles her, throwing her on the ground and wrapping his metal hand around her throat. Toni can’t even gasp out for air as the armor around her works overtime to prevent killing her, the pressure growing as spots form in her eyes.

The rest of the Avengers show up and Carol knocks him off of her just as she loses consciousness.

* * *

He’s oddly compliant, Toni absently thinks, for all he had been trying to murder her not even four hours ago. He walks himself unhindered into Bruce’s Hulk Hidey Hole (a nickname Toni had affectionately given to the Hulk containment room when talking to Clint one day—and, Clint being Clint, one he has never let change).

Toni, Steve, Bruce, and Carol are stationed at the tower to watch him while the rest of the Avengers assist Fury in finding out where Bucky came from, how he’s alive, and what _the fuck_ is going on at SHIELD.

She cries as soon as Rhodey shows up in her room, his hands gentle as he examines the bruises around her throat, the cuts on her arms, the break in her leg. His face is tight as he looks at her, one hand over his mouth, and then sighs, gently reaching out and pulling her into his lap.

“Not really how you expected to meet your childhood hero, huh, Tones?”

Toni laughs wetly, digging her head into his shoulder, and doesn’t think about what else could possibly go wrong.

* * *

“He’s been brainwashed,” Bruce finally says, “for decades, if my guess is right.”

Natasha’s face is grim, holding her arms tight under her chest. “He trained me,” she announces. “I recognize him. He was the instructor for the final year at the Red Room. The Winter Soldier.” There’s a silence as everyone processes that, and then she whispers, “He looks the exact same.”

Steve’s whine of pain next to her almost makes Toni cry again.

* * *

The Avengers stop Project Insight before it even gets off the ground. They’re all shaken when Hill tells them that HYDRA wasn’t destroyed during the war like they thought, but instead has been inside SHIELD like a parasite since its inception, biding its time until it could finally control the world, could kill off basically half the population to bring about what they considered _peace_.

* * *

Steve calls Sam Wilson in, asking for a favor even though they only met last week, and Sam shows up the next day, moves into a room, and becomes Bucky’s full time therapist.

“I’m flying blind here,” he admits. “You’re sure you want _me_ to be the one to try to help him?”

“You’re the only one I would trust,” Steve responds, and Toni tightens her grip on his hand.

* * *

Toni heads to her workshop after that, intent on finalizing the last coding needed to complete Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing (BARF, because trying to sort through her emotions and PTSD in a healthy way is more than enough to make her want to hurl). She finishes it two days later, exhaustion thrumming through each muscle, and calls Steve down to explain everything. Steve doesn’t even let her finish before he hugs her tight and swings her up, his hands holding her thighs against him, and walks her to her room and orders her to _get some sleep, this can wait_.

She drags him down with her to the bed and promptly falls asleep on top of him—she knows he hasn’t slept, either—and it makes a knot in her heart unfurl, just the tiniest bit, that she and Steve really are able to once again be as close as they were before they broke up.

* * *

Toni doesn’t interact with Bucky at all while he undergoes treatment. Sam sits in on them and helps guide Bucky through first recovering and then processing his memories. Sometimes Toni watches, Steve next to her when he isn’t allowed in with Bucky, through the security feeds scattered around the containment room—but she never goes down personally. Bucky means the world to Steve, and after all the hurt she’s put Steve through, she’s going to give him this chance at being reunited with the original Bucky Barnes, not the monster that HYDRA has turned him into.

Sam tells her two days later the Winter Soldier’s priority mission was to capture her and bring her to HYDRA.

Her nightmares are especially violent for a while after that.

* * *

“He killed your parents,” Natasha whispers one day, a random movie playing on the television in front of them while she and Rhodey press close to either side of her. “I found out earlier. Howard… He was the mechanic for the arm before he betrayed HYDRA. Helped build the thing, actually.” Toni stares blankly at the movie, processing the statement, and comes up feeling numb.

“Never cared much for my parents anyway,” she says, flatly, and feels the flinch from Rhodey. “Always felt more guilty about how relieved I was when they died. At least now I know it was karma finally catching up to the bastard.”

* * *

The Winter Soldier stops responding to the trigger words after two months have gone by. Toni holds Steve close that night as he sobs into her chest, relief and happiness and crushing guilt all rushing out of him at once.

* * *

She walks down by herself the very next day when Steve and Sam are out on their morning run. Her eyes refuse to land on him even though she knows he’s aware of her presence. She stops next to the paneling near the door, her hand flexing almost absently, and then reaches out and opens one up, getting into the cables and switches and machinery inside.

She works quietly for a while. The entire time she can feel his eyes on her. Toni tries to shove that out of her brain; if she lets herself focus too much on what she’s doing, she’ll scamper away and lose her nerve.

She eventually finds what she’s looking for. She looks at the wiring silently, amazed all over again that a single connection is capable of so much, and flicks her gaze over to meet Bucky’s eyes.

He’s watching her warily, his posture tense where he sits on the bed positioned on the opposite side of the room from the door. His body language is screaming at her about how uncomfortable he is, how terrified she makes him.

Toni looks down.

She pulls the wire out. The glass instantly turns opaque, and Toni breathes in, closing the paneling and opening the door, walking into his space.

“Miss,” JARVIS suddenly says, his voice panicky.

“Mute,” Toni responds. She can feel him rubbing against her mind in muted anger and blocks him out.

The door slides shut behind her, the click deafening in the silence between them. Bucky hasn’t moved over toward her, hasn’t moved at all, and Toni barely stops herself from shaking apart. She glances at her watch, noting that Steve and Sam are at the furthest part of the run, and knows that she has to hurry before JARVIS’s safety protocols have him contacting them and they come dashing back, especially since she cut off audio and video feed inside.

She turns around, exposing her back to him despite every instinct in her body screaming at her, and opens the inside panel, reaching in and effortlessly detaching the electronic door unlock.

Only able to be opened from the inside now. Sometimes she thinks she really has gone crazy.

“Are you here to kill me, then?”

His words interrupt her panic: sharp, cutting, not unlike a knife to her heart. She swallows.

“I’m here to give you a choice, actually.” She’s aiming for casual as she faces him again, trying to keep her voice airy and light, as if she isn’t bothered in the least to be trapped (by her own design, at that) in a room with the man whose mission was to take her to HYDRA by any means necessary. “Do you want me to kill you?”

He’s silent for just a moment longer than she can handle, so she continues, “I don’t want to kill you. I could’ve killed you a hundred times over before now if that was my goal. No, I’m here for you, not for me.” She stops for a moment, bracing herself, and then says, “The trigger words are gone. It was the last part left of the programming HYDRA forced in your brain that we had to remove. You’re not completely recovered, not by any means, but who’s to say you’ll ever be the same?” She hesitates again, unsure if she’s getting through but knowing she has to try.

“Let me try to break it down better. You broke up with your abusive sugar daddy after almost seventy years of brainwashing. Don’t know if you know this, but people say it takes at least half the time you were in a relationship to get over it. I can’t really imagine you sitting here and going through thirty-five years of therapy and BARF sessions until you feel like yourself again, ya know? I’d never be able to do it, at any rate. So! What I was thinking is that we have two options—well, we have more than two, but I think these two are the best—but we have two options, and you can choose whichever you want and I’ll help you through it, get Steve off your back if you want.”

He’s dropped his shoulders from around his neck. His eyes aren’t blank, exactly, but the look in them unsettles her.

“Option one: you can leave the tower. I’ll give you money, make up some fake passports if you want, and can drop you off in the Quinjet in fuckin’, I don’t know, Prague or Siberia or London—the where doesn’t matter—I can take you wherever you want to go. I won’t track you, I’ll make Steve leave you alone, and you can just... get out of here and do whatever you want with your life without having the pressure I’m sure you feel to be the Bucky that Steve remembers. You can find out who you are, whether that’s Bucky Barnes or someone else. That’s option one.”

She glances down at her watch, the time flashing at her, and knows she doesn’t have much longer until Steve shows up.

“Option two: you can stay here. Well, not _here_ , but stay in the tower. I have a few spare rooms and you can move into one, make it your own, and you can program it so no one has access to your things except for you and whoever you want. You can leave the tower whenever you feel ready, can go experience froyo or visit the Met or whatever you find out you like. You can keep using the glasses—I’d recommend it, personally—and you can explore the floors JARVIS will let you, do perimeter checks if that’s a thing you want. It doesn’t matter what you want to do, but you can do it. And you can hang out with Steve, or with Carol or Clint or Thor, really, anyone you want. The point is,” she finally says, her voice rough, because she knows she’s nervous and scared and that’s why she’s rambling so much, “you can stay here. In the tower. You’ll be protected. HYDRA can’t reach you here. They would have to start all over again any—that doesn’t matter. No one will be able to hurt you. We’ll protect you.”

There’s a sudden thud on the glass behind her and she spins, a gauntlet materializing around her hand as she holds it up at the glass. She stops right before it actually shoots and breathes in raggedly as more thumps resound against the glass.

“If you’re armed, why are you scared of me?” he asks, his voice without inflection, and Toni turns around to see he’s stood up just past the edge of the bed frame. His body language has changed, and somehow he looks more menacing, like he’s everything HYDRA made him into and more.

“It’s not you I’m scared of. Not... not anymore, at least. Since the triggers are gone, it means the Winter Soldier is gone, too. It’s just going to take me a while to remember that... I’m not your mission anymore.”

“So you are scared of the Winter Soldier, but not me? Aren’t we the same person?”

She huffs. The thumping is getting more consistent behind her, and then there’s a loud cracking sound and a muffled shout, and Toni winces.

She didn’t think Rhodey would be back from D.C. until tomorrow.

“You have autonomy now; you’re not just a mindless killer. You might not be Bucky, you might not be James, but you’re definitely not the Winter Soldier.”

His gaze is locked onto her despite the splintering glass behind her growing every hit. He takes a step back, sitting on the bed again, each movement precise.

“I am the Winter Soldier. Bucky is asleep inside our body. He’s scared of you, so I took over.”

His words wash over her just as the glass finally cracks apart, the Iron Woman armor forming around her in the face of her instant fear.

“What do you mean _you’re not Bucky_?” she yells, her arm raising and pointing the hand repulsor at him. “We removed the triggers and the programming. The Winter Soldier should be dead.”

Rhodey and Steve are silent behind her, watching through the new hole in the containment room they’ve made.

“You spoke of autonomy. I am the Winter Soldier. I am not the Fist of HYDRA anymore; they can’t control me. I finally have a chance to figure out who I am when I can be myself. Bucky already decided who he is. It’s my turn.”

Toni’s heart races at the declaration, her gasps muted inside her suit.

The Winter Soldier stands again, his face determined. “You said you have rooms for us, do you not? Or have you changed your mind about not killing us now that you know I’m alive?”

Steve suddenly obscures her vision, one of his hands lowering her arm while the other reaches for the corner of her mask, leaning his forehead against it. Toni is in too much shock to try to stop him.

“Toni,” Steve begs, his voice wrecked, “ _please_.”

The suit glides back inside her body at Steve’s plea. Her knees give out at the same time. Steve catches her—because he always catches her, never lets her fall or suffer or punish herself, no matter how much she deserves it or how angry he is.

Toni vaguely registers talking behind her; she hears Rhodey stomp off (and that conversation isn’t going to be fun at _all_ ), and then Sam enters the room, too, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than here.

“It’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder,” Sam says, his voice resigned. “Or, as best as I can understand it, that is; there’s not really a precedent for being tortured and brainwashed and experimented on for as long as he has. He’s Bucky, but he’s the Winter Soldier, too. He’s two people in one body.”

“Toni, why did you come in here like this?” Steve whispers. She opens her eyes and sees his right in front of her. “I thought you—I thought he might’ve…”

“What you said, about a name,” the Winter Soldier suddenly speaks up when Steve doesn’t seem to be ready to say more, “I think I’ll go by Winter. Seems as good as any.”

Toni is silent as she processes that statement—and then she bursts out into manic laughter, her sides shaking as she falls into Steve’s arms and shoves her face into his neck.

“Winter, man,” Sam calls over the sound of her laughter, “I think it might be a good idea to let Bucky back out. Whatdya say?”

* * *

It dissolves from there, with Bucky emerging and telling them he would like to stay in the tower, but only if Toni is okay with it still. She hysterically agrees.

He’s put up in a room. Everyone gives him space as he adjusts to his newfound, but limited, freedom. Toni hides from him, refusing to see what he’s like around her, if he’s actually safe or if he’s planning on murdering her or taking her back to HYDRA.

JARVIS watches him ceaselessly, never allowing him close to Toni. Clint hangs around her more, Natasha taking his spot occasionally, doing their best to show she’s protected and loved.

Sam explains everything in detail to her, saying Bucky wants her to know about him and his progress, wants to prove he won’t hurt her.

She listens if for no other reason than to wipe the frown off of Steve’s face.

* * *

“Toni, it’s been a month,” Bruce points out to her over a beaker. “I think you should at least try to meet with him. It doesn’t have to be just the two of you; we can all be there. Maybe at team dinner tonight?”

Toni mulls it over, Steve’s strained smile flashing through her mind, and decides she can’t avoid the issue anymore.

“Yeah. Okay. But only if you make your gulab jaman for dessert!”

* * *

Team dinner is surprisingly easy.

Steve’s grin is nearly blinding from where he sits between Toni and Bucky, engaged in a heated conversation with Thor. Natasha is on Toni’s other side and the two of them quickly enter a game together, trying to steal the most gulab jaman without Bruce noticing. The atmosphere is light, smiles coming easily to everyone, and Toni feels a pang through her chest when she realizes it’s been three months since she felt this content.

After dinner, Toni washes the dishes (“You’ve been skipping out for a month, Toni! It’s your turn for the next _week_!”). The team is in the living room, preparing to watch a movie, when a throat clears from the kitchen entrance.

“Would ya like some help?”

Toni freezes up, heart racing in danger even though she knows the team is only a shout away. She doesn’t answer, counting down from ten slowly, and then breathes out, “Yeah, sure, you can dry.”

They don’t talk as he slides up next to her, his metal arm brushing against her for just a moment before he scoots over. Toni methodically hands him dish after dish, focusing on the laughter and conversation from the living room.

“Toni,” Bucky says suddenly, “I jus’ wanted to thank ya. You didn’t have ta do any of this for me, ‘specially after ya found out what I—what I did.”

“It was the Winter Soldier, not you, Buckaroo.”

The nickname slips out of her mouth without conscious thought and Toni’s fingers twitch in surprise under the water. She breathes in again.

“But, um. It was no problem. Anything for Steve, ya know? You’re important to him.”

“Is he your fella?” Bucky asks quietly.

“We—used to date,” Toni swallows, “but… we’re better as friends. Best friends. Don’t think I’m really in the place to date right now, anyway.”

The sound of the water turns on just long enough for Bucky to rinse the suds off a plate. The clink of it against his hand is almost too loud in Toni’s ears. Toni hands him the last dish and he rinses it off, dries it, and puts it in the cabinet. Toni drains the water and then leans back against the sink, crossing her arms as she watches him.

“You really think—”

“Hey, you two done in there?” Clint shouts. “It’s time for the movie to start!”

Toni pushes off the counter and just _looks_ at Bucky one more time before smiling tentatively at him. “Come on, soldier. Can’t keep our adoring fans waiting.”

* * *

Toni starts hanging out around Bucky after that, usually with another person around. He’s always careful around her, never pushing when she needs space or seems uncomfortable. She notices his arm lagging one day while playing Monopoly and the motion of his hand gets stuck in her head, refusing to leave her alone.

“Hey, JARVIS?” she asks later that night. “How is Bucky repairing his arm? Is he doing maintenance on it?”

“He seems sufficient in repairing the arm as needed, but I have noticed a frustration surrounding him after the last few sessions.”

Toni mulls that over in her head. Bucky isn’t an Avenger, isn’t at risk of being put in a situation where he’ll need to fight, but the thought of leaving him handicapped still nags at the back of her brain.

“Start a new file, J,” she announces, pivoting around to face the screens. “Seems like we’re building an assassin a new arm, God help me.”

It takes her a while to finish it, but she finally does three weeks later. She spins the holographic model in a circle, studying it, and realizes it’s time.

“Where’s Bucky now?”

“He is currently in his quarters, Miss.”

“Will you ask him if he wants to come down here?”

There’s a heavy silence while she waits for his response. She fidgets in place, and then: “He will be arriving shortly, Miss.”

Toni relaxes. Maybe they finally are getting along the way Steve wants; maybe she’s ready to accept that Bucky isn’t going to hurt her.

* * *

“Miss,” JARVIS interrupts her, “Protocol Safety Net has been activated.”

Toni tenses immediately, standing up and running toward the elevator.

“Where?” she snaps.

“The balcony deck, Miss.”

She’s up there in moments, stepping out into the late September night breeze. Her eyes dart around and she sees a shadowed figure sitting on the ledge, arms looped lazily around his knees. She walks over to him slowly, making sure each of her footsteps are heard, and when she reaches him, she whispers, “Can I join you?”

Bucky doesn’t look up at her, but he nods, and Toni slides down to sit next to him. She’s silent, watching the skyline and the play of lights from cars filled with people even so late at night. Toni is content with simply offering companionship and waiting for him to speak first. When he does, his voice is raw and scratchy, and she can tell he’s been crying.

“I didn’t break right away, ya know? I fought and fought and fought. Did everything I could to get free. When they told me Stevie had died, I… I almost gave in. I didn’t want to imagine a world without Steve Rogers. He was always my moral compass, even when he was ninety-five pounds ‘n’ fightin’ bullies in alleyways. But then I thought to myself... _no, Barnes, you can’t give in. Steve was—is—the most stubborn sumbitch ya’ve ever met. If he wouldn’t give in, neither should you._ So I kept fightin’, and I kept denyin’ them, hopin’ they’d grow tired and just kill me instead.” He chuckles mirthlessly, and Toni reaches out, sliding her hand into his. “But then, ya know, Howard came in one day. And he blamed me, said it was my fault that Stevie was gone, and that he knew exactly what he was gonna do ta me. And he and Zola, they shoved me in the chair, and they wiped all my memories, and he put the arm on me, and I—”

He chokes on his own words, shoving his face more into his knees, his hand squeezing hers almost too tightly.

“The first mission they had me do, ya see, it was a test of my loyalty apparently. Howard and Zola wanted to know I wasn’t just fakin’ the chair’s success. And they made me stage a car accident for this young actor, I don’t know why, but—I did, killed him and left the other two alive, but just barely. And I—I don’t understand, ya know? I’ve been forced to kill so many people, and yeah, it’s not my fault, I get that, but I still did it. I still killed ‘em. And now here I am, sittin’ surrounded by somma the best people in the world, and what did I do to deserve it? I murdered—murdered _children_ in front of their parents—”

“Okay, Bucky, it’s okay,” Toni says, pulling him to her, shushes falling from her mouth as she pets his hair, similar to how Ana comforted her as a child. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

“I don’t deserve to be coddled like this! I don’t deserve—I don’t—”

“You did what you had to, Bucky, to survive. That’s no different than what any other person in your situation would’ve done.”

His exhale rattles her chest, and Toni clutches him closer to her. She regulates her breathing: slow, even, measured breaths, in, hold, out—and not long after, he matches her, his heartbeat normalizing. 

“Let’s go inside, Bucky bear,” Toni says softly. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate and we can watch some old timey movie. How does that sound?”

She waits with near baited breath for his response, but then he nods once, and Toni stands, pulling him up with her. They go inside the tower and Toni settles him onto the couch, turning on an old Ella Fitzgerald song, and heads to the kitchen. When she returns, she sits next to him, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands, and hands one off to him. She switches the music over to _Casablanca_.

At some point, her head finds his metal shoulder. It’s not necessarily a physical comfort for her, but it’s a mental one for him, and she holds his hand in hers again. After a moment, his head leans against the top of hers. She breathes in gently, lightly sipping her drink, and loses track of time like that, the movie throwing soft light over them until her eyes begin to slide shut.

“Thanks, doll,” Bucky whispers, and Toni feels the barest brush of lips against the top of her head as she hums in response.

Toni comes to the quiet realization that she likes Bucky Barnes.

* * *

It's just past three in the morning when Toni rolls out of bed, her throat tight as she bites back a scream. JARVIS does nothing except brighten the lights slightly, just enough to see, but she can feel his watchful eye over her, waiting for the smallest cry for help.

She doesn’t need it. She just. Needs a cup of coffee or five and a jaunt to her lab to distract her from the yawning chasm of vast, horrible, _occupied_ space—

She breathes in. Out. Grabs a shirt at random hanging around her room: Natasha’s this time, a thin, close-fitting white tank top that surely won’t actually help her be any more decent than topless would, especially without a bra since her nipple piercings stand out; but Toni doesn’t _care_ about decency, just wants the scent of someone she cares about to be around her right now, and Natasha is the perfect person to remind her that strong women are still allowed to have weak moments. She pulls it over her head, her hair tickling her face as she absently pushes it out of her eyes, walking out of her bedroom intent on her goal.

Two hours of sleep before the nightmares woke her. It’s better than she could’ve hoped for.

She walks out of her room and enters the common area, bare feet padding against the plush carpet silently. She doesn’t expect anyone else to be awake despite knowing they all have night terrors that keep them up. Being a hero is a selfless act that leaves deep, painful, invisible scars, of which none of the Avengers are exempt. She remembers each instance of encountering her family (because the Avengers _are_ her family now, after everything they’ve gone through) after their own wanderings for comfort: from her first time seeing Steve alone on the couch in the dark, curled up in a ball with a look in his blue eyes so lost and lonely she nearly cried herself; to Clint, hiding in the faux-planetarium, watching the simulated constellations play out around him with FRIDAY’s voice low reciting Native American myths and legends. She’s seen all the Avengers at one point or another hiding from their nightmares, and she’s worked hard to never let them see her own, to not burden them with her issues, when she still remembers how Pepper had—

She draws up short, eyes refocusing on the present, to see a bulky, naked chest in front of her, a set of dog tags hanging in the center of all that exposed skin, one flesh and one metal hand cradling a cup of coffee in front of it. She blinks and looks up into Bucky's face.

“JARVIS told me ya might like some company,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, “and I happened ta already be here ‘n’ awake, so thought I’d… make some coffee for ya. If ya want.”

He looks awkward, then, his body tense and shoulders squared, but Toni isn’t a slouch when it comes to recognizing other people hiding their pain from the world (how could she be, when she’s been an expert at it for so long?). She gingerly reaches out, her fingers brushing his as she takes the #1 Super Soldier cup from him (a gag gift from Sam that had left Steve righteously offended and Bucky giggling for days). She sips it and finds it _just_ too hot, sugar sweetening it perfectly how she likes it, and smiles up at him. She can’t read the look in his eyes, and that thought makes her nervous.

“Thanks, Buckaroo.” She hesitates, eyeing the side lamp turned on near the loveseat, a book marked beside it—then thinks of a quiet night not too long ago out on the balcony, and makes a decision. “What were you reading?” she begins, her hands cradling her cup as she walks over to get a closer look. She picks it up and flips it over to see the front cover. “ _A Tree Grows In Brooklyn_? Feeling a bit nostalgic or just looking for some old-fashioned advice?”

She doesn’t hear him come up behind her, but his warm presence is suddenly a scalding iron along her back, a cold spot right where his dog tags are trapped between them. She freezes, clutching her cup tighter in her hand. Bucky reaches around her and slips the book from her fingers.

It’s not that she’s never _known_ , however abstractly, that Bucky is incredibly handsome and attractive. It’s just that she’s never really _noticed_ that he’s all that and a bag of chips—a hot, red-blooded _male_. He has always been an off-limits thing in the months since his arrival at the tower; always too busy recovering and mending his mind to be involved in anything _improper_. And then, knowing that he's Steve's best friend, and thinking of everything that she and Steve have gone through, it feels disrespectful to view Bucky in any way except friend. She can't help it, though: all of her senses are noticing now, and it’s like her whole view of him just… _shifts_. She has to draw a line, though; has to tell herself she can't even entertain the idea of pursuing him.

“Maybe a bit a both,” he says in her ear, in her hair, in her brand new total _awareness_ of him. “If ya want, I can… read some of it? To ya?” His voice is hesitant; the lines pressing against her back are still tense.

Toni mentally shakes herself and instead thinks of him having his night terrors; of his memories returning and trickling slowly through his cognizance until they arrive like a loathful long lost friend, bringing horror and guilt and pure pain with them—and she knows she wants to help him in this way, to squash those memories that bring him such sorrow and replace them with positive ones filled with love and contentment.

“Yeah, Bucky,” she says. “Read some Betty Smith to me.”

She can't let herself get attached to the way that now feels _right_. She has to respect Bucky, respect his connection ( _her_ connection) to Steve, and remind herself she would never deserve someone as beautiful as Bucky. She would destroy him, just as HYDRA did. She can't help, though, but smile up at him, a tentative thing: he does deserve her unwavering support, and Toni will one hundred percent give him that.

Hours later, Steve walks into the common room after his morning run to find the two of them curled up on the loveseat, Toni draped over Bucky’s chest and legs, his metal arm thrown protectively around her, with an empty mug and a bookmarked novel placed gently on the table besides them. Steve’s face draws in tight, eyes careful to avoid the long lines of Toni’s legs, and isn’t surprised in the least when Bucky’s attention is suddenly on him—but he’s definitely shocked when the Winter Soldier (because Steve can tell the difference now, knows how to tell which personality is dominant) simply tightens his grip over Toni’s waist, two fingers resting possessively underneath the waistband of her underwear, and pulls her closer before closing his eyes and falling asleep (feigning sleep) again. After a moment, Steve throws a blanket over their bodies, vowing to keep a closer eye on Winter around Toni. Regardless of what's happened between them, she's his best friend in this new age, and he won't let her get hurt again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta (and major cheerleading) for this chapter done by the wonderful Vania1824. all remaining mistakes are my own x
> 
> Russian translations are in the end notes (:

Toni is in her workshop tinkering with a faulty piece of wiring that’s causing DUM-E to sporadically jerk his arm (he may or may not have almost hit her in the face twice before she realized it wasn’t just DUM-E being himself). A slow stream of babble accompanies the fix.

“Miss,” JARVIS suddenly says, turning down the volume on _Stairway to Heaven_ , which _honestly_ should be considered a war crime, “Sergeant Barnes is requesting your location. He seems a bit upset. Should I tell him?”

She slows down her work, face scrunching up in confusion. What time was it even? Was something wrong? She glances at the clock and sees 0153 flashing back at her. Her body is suddenly heavy and her mind instantly calculates the amount of hours she’s been awake (twenty-two; not a record, but definitely enough that she can feel it once her attention isn’t hyperfixated on a task).

“Okay. Sure. Do you know what could be wrong?” She fiddles with one of the screwdrivers she has nearby, absentmindedly closing DUM-E’s plating and sending him on his happy way.

“I believe you should ask him yourself, Miss,” JARVIS opines. She snorts up at one of his cameras.

Toni stands up and stretches her back, feeling all of her twenty-nine years keenly. She knows she’s not nearly old enough to qualify for an Old Back™ (as Rhodey likes to remind her), but a lifetime of manual labor tends to give you issues earlier than most other people.

It’s as she’s swinging her arms down from her stretch that she hears Bucky enter. She turns to face him, a grin on her lips, and begins, “Hey, handsome, heard you were lookin’...”

She trails off as she actually _looks_ at him: fingers completely still at his sides, hair an unkempt mess, eyes on _fire_ with a gaze full of such _rage_ she feels a tiny flicker of fear and confusion before realization strikes her.

This isn’t Bucky she’s allowed in her space.

This is the _Winter Soldier_.

Her fear turns into full blown _terror_ before she desperately tries to squash it down, reminding herself that he isn’t a threat to her, that Bucky _promised_ Winter wouldn’t hurt her. She’s grown completely comfortable around Bucky, but she hasn’t been around the Winter Soldier since the day she found out he was still alive. As much as Toni trusts that BARF has removed the trigger words, has given him autonomy, the fact that she used to be his mission, was ( _is_ ) someone he was told to bring into HYDRA, causes Toni to struggle to believe that there isn’t a part of him, at least on some level, that wants to complete his mission.

The Winter Soldier continues to stalk closer to her, his hand beginning to reach out, and she has a moment of pure panic as she instinctively points the screwdriver at him like a weapon, completely ignoring the Bleeding Edge armor under her skin.

A screwdriver. Against the _Winter Soldier_. She _actually_ has a death wish.

He zeros in on it and suddenly it’s tossed across the room, his hands grabbing her wrists _tight_ , pulling her into his body, closer to his rage and anger and barely controlled violence.

“Tonechka,” he _growls_ , the Russian accent thick, the pure masculinity of his voice sending a confusing spike of heat down her back, “you are smarter than this, да?”

Tonechka? Since when did he call her by _Tonechka_? Only Natasha has ever—

She realizes he is in sweatpants and one of Steve’s one-size-too-small tanks, his dog tags straining against the fabric, clearly having just woken up before flying to Toni’s side. For some reason, seeing the outline of his dog tags brings her a small sense of comfort. This is the Winter Soldier, yes, but this is also Bucky Barnes. She decides that, instead of fighting her way out of this, wanting to spare her lab (wanting to trust Bucky), she’ll attempt a bit of a _different_ approach. (It has nothing to do with her new awareness of Bucky, nothing to do with the way his gaze on her flares something to life under her skin, in her stomach, in her—)

“Hello to you, too, Winter,” she purrs, hoping to distract him enough to get him to release her. Toni is almost unsurprised when it seems to work for a moment, but the feeling is dashed when he immediately retightens his hold. She tries to run with it regardless, looking up at him through her dark eyelashes, her mouth parted. “Lovely boy, you don’t have to hold me down so; at least, you don’t have to in here. I only really enjoy being held down in bed—and you _know_ I’m a sucker for those beautiful, stormy eyes.”

He rumbles against her, moving to grab both her wrists in one of his hands before immediately pulling her closer toward him by his grip on them. She stumbles and falls on his chest, barely managing to steady herself before his metal arm snakes around her waist.

Toni is completely at a loss as to what the situation has morphed into.

“Tonechka,” he growls again, this time nearly in her ear, sending another fissure of panicked fire down her spine, “you will come to _my_ bed, then, since it seems I must hold you down to make you rest. Mission parameters require Avengers be battle ready at all times. You would be a hindrance on the field like this.”

Anger suddenly bubbles under her skin, combining sharply with the deep want from hearing him flirt back so innocuously. “I am fully capable of handling myself, _Soldier_ , and I do _not_ need you to tell me what to do. I am a grown woman and I can handle being in a fight just fine like this. I’ve done it hundreds of times before,” she sneers up at him in defiance, “ _without_ you babysitting me.”

She rapidly tries to calm herself before she truly unleashes on him; no matter how much progress he has made (how much progress _Bucky_ has made), he is still a _dangerous_ man, but most especially when Winter is the one at the helm. Her anger has turned her fear nearly obsolete. He doesn’t give her much time to attempt any self-soothing before he’s dragging her across the room, the grip on her wrists almost bruising. She snarls in rage.

“ _Hey_. Did you not hear me?! I am fine by _myself_. I especially have my own bed or a multitude of couches to choose from that _aren’t_ your bed. Let me go.”

His expression is thunderous as he grumbles out, “Mission parameters have been set. Rules state any Avenger or Avenger-adjacent member may interfere if an action is detrimental to either a specific person’s health or the health of the team as a whole—therefore, you will sleep, or you will be benched. I am sure the Captain would agree with me, if you would rather obey his command over mine.”

Her pride overrides her sense of safety (especially as he implies _Steve Rogers_ has a hold over her autonomy) and she starts squirming viciously against him. His hold tightens against her, ignoring her attempts at escape, and drags her into the elevator. (JARVIS’s _traitorous_ coding, she will give him away to the first doe-eyed child she sees at a _moment’s notice_ —and since when did he side with Winter over her, anyway?)

The elevator doors haven’t even closed before he _slams_ her against the wall, his hands flying to the back of her thighs, lifting her up effortlessly. Her back arches up against him and her fingers tighten their grip on his arms, furtively trying to shove him away until her brain catches up with her body and she gasps.

He’s _hard_ , _achingly so_ , against her. His expression is still that murderous thing, but she can see the heat and aggressive _want_ clawing to be let out under the surface. Her hands loosen the gentlest bit against him, just enough for him to see the weakness, and his flesh arm reaches up and grabs her wrists in his grip once again. He throws them against the wall above her head, supporting her with just his metal arm and the wall (though she knows he could hold her without it, just using a single arm, and a short jolt rocks through her at that thought).

She shouldn't be letting him do this, especially not while he's the Soldier, not when Bucky hasn’t consented; she should be standing on the opposite side of the line, keeping him a firm thirty-nine and a half feet away.

“Киска,” he rumbles, “be careful starting things you may not want to finish. My patience in this will not last.”

Her breath draws in sharply at that, her breasts brushing against the hard planes of his chest. She can feel her body beginning to turn against her, to respond to his, and she stops herself desperately.

“Put me down, Winter.”

He stares into what feels like her _soul_ , his body heaving against hers. He's pressed so intimately close that Toni is almost afraid he will simply _take_ instead of doing as she asks—but then he does, letting her feet fall to the floor, even with his hand still holding her arms locked above her head. The elevator door opens behind them, JARVIS having taken them to Toni's floor instead of Bucky's, and Toni reconsiders giving him away.

He simply stares at her chest as it heaves in this position, and then he murmurs a short command: “Come.” His hand releases one of hers, holding the other still in his grip, dragging her through the common area toward her bedroom. He pulls her to her bed, stops—and just as her anxiety begins to return, he drops her hand and aggressively _rips_ off Steve’s tank, his dog tags clinking together, throwing it to the ground next to the wall near the bed, and slides into her bed like he _belongs_.

Her brain short-circuits, staring at him uncomprehendingly even as he drags her onto him, her legs automatically straddling his body, and only reboots when she realizes he’s reaching for her top (one of Bruce’s thick undershirts, stolen from his laundry and hoarded as a prize) and is pushing it up her hips.

She reaches down and places her hands on his wrists, something they both know he could easily break. Winter stops, gaze crawling up from where it had been trained on her waist to her face. His eyes smoulder, fire bright and burning.

“You cannot sleep with a brassière on, Tonechka,” he murmurs, soft, the tension from earlier diminished now with her actually in a bed and his mission-oriented brain becoming more satisfied by the moment. He reaches forward again, slowly, her shirt riding up and exposing her stomach, but not actually working to remove it. His fingers quickly unsnap her bra, guiding her to thread her arms through the straps and then pulling it through the bottom of her shirt, tossing it aside. His hands resettle on her hips, thumbs lazily circling her skin. Toni doesn’t know what else she can do but _stare_ into his eyes, the storm hidden in them captivating her so easily. She slow blinks at him and she watches as his mouth curves into a cocky smirk.

He tucks down into the bed, pulling her in, still on top of him, so like how she cuddled Bucky before and yet vehemently different. His metal hand runs up the side of her body, goosebumps following in his wake, until he reaches the nape of her neck and begins a massage there. It doesn’t take long until she’s like liquid against him, her breathing evening out, and right before she goes under she whispers _goodnight_.

His hand stutters in her hair and then he responds in kind, watching over her as she slips that last bit into slumber.

When her bladder awakens her some many hours later, it’s to find a stiff Bucky under her very carefully avoiding touching her, his quite obvious morning wood pressing against her stomach. Toni stretches, taking note of the way his hand twists in her bed sheets, and (regretfully?) slides off him. She looks back at his terrified face and takes pity.

“Good morning, handsome. It seems the Winter Soldier has a bit of a crush on me. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” She stretches again with a tiny moan, intentionally jutting out her chest just a _bit_ more than needed, excitement filling her at this new development between the two of them (even as she says to herself _no, stop, he deserves so much better than you, line in the sand, line in the_ sand). She glances at his slack-jawed, beet-red face and winks. “Don’t you worry, though. My honor is still intact.”

She pads over to the ensuite bathroom and stops at the door to it, leaning against the frame for a second as she thinks. She turns toward him, amusedly noting the pillow suddenly thrown over his lap as he’s sat up.

“If you want—and feel free to say no, everyone and their mothers know that I’m the queen of offering too much where I’m not wanted—but, if you want…” Toni hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and then continues, “well, that’s the longest period of uninterrupted sleep I’ve had since last week, which was also with you, and—twice is a coincidence, but maybe we could test to see, uh, see if it’s a pattern? Only if you want; I’m not trying to guilt you into it. In fact, forget I said anything. This is a horrible idea. I’m just going to leave—”

She’s stopped by his fingers slipping into her palm as he's suddenly standing in front of her. “Okay,” he whispers.

The tension that had built up in her body releases all at once and she looks up into his eyes, the ever present churn of emotion swirling enchantingly, tenderly.

“Okay,” she responds, and his hand glides from hers as he turns away. She aches with the missing weight.

Just as she’s about to turn around, he throws over his shoulder softly, “See ya tonight, then.”

He disappears out the bedroom door and she takes a second longer to revel in the moment before entering the bathroom and starting up a warm ( _cold, cold, make it cold_ ) shower.

* * *

Their sleeping arrangement does, indeed, seem to hold a pattern: both of their night terrors _drastically_ reduce; when they do happen, it’s so much easier to fall back asleep with the other person right there to offer immediate comfort. Toni hasn’t been this well rested since—well, she can’t quite remember the last time she got this much consistent sleep. Even when she and Steve dated, her dreams (of space, of Afghanistan, of Obie) and his dreams (of the ice, of Bucky falling, of _her_ falling) were common bedmates for the two of them.

Bucky seems happier, too, more in control of himself than he normally is (not to say Winter doesn’t make appearances; he’s never truly _that_ far away from the surface, now that he’s been out around Toni, and Toni’s quickly coming to accept that his intentions toward her have nothing to do with HYDRA’s mission). Steve eyes the two of them questioningly but never outright asks, and Toni feels her guilt build up, eating away at her.

Natasha is more invasive than Steve, trying her damndest to corner Toni and question her, but every time Toni manages to _just_ escape or use someone else as a buffer. After a while, she starts to notice Bucky doing the same thing, Nat getting more and more creative, until finally one night she manages to encounter Winter. Toni assumes whatever he says satisfies her enough that she stops trying to chase the two of them around the tower (and Toni will have to tell Pepper nevermind on that “emergency meeting in Cali” she had said might need to happen soon).

After three weeks, however, Toni starts to fray a bit at the edges. She’s not used to having a body pressed so close to her for so long (because _of course_ Bucky Barnes is a cuddler—and the Winter Soldier considers it a damn _mission_ to make sure she sleeps and seems to think pressing himself along her will help) and she’s especially not used to it happening _without_ sex. She’s been walking around in a near constant state of arousal for _literally weeks_ now. She needs some _relief_.

That evening she brushes her teeth absentmindedly, staring through the mirror into the bedroom behind her. Bucky does that ridiculous guy move of removing his shirt, the one that ripples his abdominal muscles _sinfully_ ; she can’t seem to help but follow the way his dog tags jostle against his sternum. He never seems to sleep with a shirt, not as Bucky nor Winter, and has gotten to the point where he doesn’t sleep with his pants, either, boxer briefs the only thing covering his body from her. He _radiates_ heat all the time; sleeping next to another person only makes it worse, makes him too hot and uncomfortable while sleeping.

Admittedly, Toni isn’t much better: she tends to run cold at night, but with him pressed against her, she’s constantly feeling like she has too many layers on. She sleeps in just her panties and a shirt or tank, still slightly too hot but unwilling to change either her clothing choices or tell Bucky to stop cuddling her so close.

She doesn’t realize she’s blatantly staring until she notices he’s staring _back_. She jumps slightly, blushes, and vigorously returns her attention to brushing her teeth. She swears she sees a cocky grin cross his mouth out of the corner of her eye, but she’s too nervous and turned on to look back and examine him.

He pads over toward her, casually entering the bathroom and reaching for his own toothbrush. A decent amount of his things have seemed to migrate into her room, and Toni can’t decide if it drives her crazy in a bad way or a _bad_ way.

His chest brushes against her back (a simple black tank and red undies are all she’s got on right now, and she can feel his skin on her skin, and _that_ definitely drives her crazy in a _bad_ way) as he reaches for the toothpaste. She bends over the sink and spits out the excess, and she would take an oath that she feels him brush his hips against her ass and thighs—

As soon as her mouth is clean, she announces loudly, “Shower! I need. I need to shower. Hurry up, Buckaroo, all this beauty isn’t maintenance-free, ya know. Gotta work to keep it drop-dead gorgeous.” Her hands twitch and she tries her best to settle them, walking over to the shower and turning on the water, attempting to speed him up. A few moments pass before the water temperature is to her satisfaction and she turns back to find his toothbrush put away, his gaze heavy and _boring_ into her.

God, a person could go crazy with those eyes focused on them like that—

“How long’s it take ta wash your hair? Don’t think I’ve eva seen it look bad.”

She blinks at him. She inherited the thick hair all Carbonell women seem to be blessed with. Maria was the only one who seemed to hate it, spending hours upon hours straightening it until it would lay as flat as possible in addition to having it thinned every time she saw her hair stylist, but she instilled in Toni a certain sense of Catalonian pride nonetheless. It rains down around her shoulders, wavy and unconstrained.

“Um,” she eloquently begins, “normally I only wash it two or three times a week, but it can take… an hour, at most, I guess? Even though I keep it semi-short, I still have a lot of hair, and I have to be careful about making sure I wash it properly, especially when I get motor oil in it. It's a bit frustrating, truth be told, and sometimes I think about cutting it all off, but that was one thing mother would never let me do, and I guess it kinda stuck with me? Not to mention how difficult it was to figure out how to fit all of it under the suit’s helmet, _that_ was a challenge—I can't imagine having even _more_ hair for the suit to work around, ‘cause, lemme tell you, getting stray hairs caught in metal and pulling on them isn’t my idea of a fun time, ya know? Not that I don’t like a bit of hair pulling, but it’s a different type I like, and—”

Bucky is staring at her still, a sly grin on his face, his posture inviting. Toni wants to lick every inch of him—

“Anyway. So. Yeah. I’m not washing it tonight if that’s what you’re wondering.”

She needs this conversation to be over. She needs the excuse of a shower to get herself off, to get some relief, _anything_.

“Could I wash it sometime?”

His request surprises her, distracting her from the throbbing between her legs that’s been worsening the longer he stands there and watches her. Her brain is always such _goop_ when she needs to get off and Bucky makes it even worse.

“Y-Yeah. Sure. We can do it before the charity gala coming up next week.”

Do it? _We can do it_? Toni is going to murder herself if she doesn’t spontaneously combust first.

Bucky steps closer, reaching out and running his fingers up the nape of her neck, gathering up her hair, gaze intent on her face and leaving her _absolutely flustered_. She presses her thighs together, shifting her weight, pleading to whatever deity is listening to _please_ let this end, _please_ , she wasn’t above begging at this point if that’s what it took.

Her knees almost give out when he tightens his grip, the shortest of gasps escaping her before she can stifle it, pain and pleasure like a brand—

“Sounds like a date,” he whispers, barely audible over the water from the shower behind her, and tilts her head to the side, abusing his hold on her hair to guide her how he wants. He bends down, places a barely there kiss on her neck, just under her ear, then _smirks_ and lets her go, leaving the bathroom, pulling the door to but not closing it, and _oh, all that was holy_ , he expects her to shower with the door still _open_ after _pulling on her hair_?

“Challenge _fucking_ accepted, Barnes,” she growls.

Her shower is nowhere near what it could have been: with one hand shoved in her mouth and the other buried between her legs, she's too focused on being silent than on the actual release (because as much as she wants to tease him, she’s not ready to do that when the only barrier between them is a cracked open door). In the end, she's left feeling unsatisfied and _hungrier_ for more.

She angrily exits the shower, wrapping a towel around herself and then stopping on the drip mat as she realizes she didn’t bring clean clothing with her to the bathroom. A wicked thought crosses her mind and she decides _fuck it_ and smirks, unholy glee lighting up her eyes.

She tosses open the door, clad only in the towel that exposes a purely _naked_ line up her side where the ends don’t overlap. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, exposing the back of her neck, something she knows will drive Bucky _wild_. A barely audible choking sound comes from her bed and she dutifully ignores it, sashaying toward her closet while humming to herself. Two can play at this game, Barnes, and Toni Stark doesn’t lose.

That is, until she’s suddenly grabbed from behind, a warm hand catching her shoulder and tracing the barest bit along her collar bone, cold metal following an unknown path across her opposite arm, the outside of her breast—

“ _Tonechka_ ,” Winter _snarls_ behind her, his cock pressing against her through just his boxer-briefs and her towel, and oh, _oh_ , how she had miscalculated if Bucky’s reaction to her was so strong _Winter_ forced his way out. “Just _what_ do you think you’re doing?”

She swallows, sure he can feel that and her racing heartbeat, and nearly _whines_ as his metal hand slips into that slit in the towel, pressing against the side of her stomach and quickly inching down farther south.

Her pussy is _fucking dripping_ with need.

“Ah,” she starts, and it’s too high pitched; she tampers it down, starting again. “F-Forgot clothing for after my shower, that’s all.”

His hand stops on her skin _just_ between her inner hip and her groin, his thumb brushing so close to where she wants it but _not close enough_. She near violently restrains herself from arching back against him. She has to stop this, has to get away and get a barrier between them, but it's hard to remember exactly _why_ she's resisting him—

He hums, a _deep_ sound vibrating along her entire body. She would swear on a Bible before a judge anything he wanted to know if only she could get some _relief_. His metal hand _barely_ brushes the top of her mound and then he’s pulling away. The sudden absence of heat jars her, but he’s right back to her, maneuvering her into one of _his_ shirts (and not one of Bucky’s, but one of _Winter’s_ ) and pulling the towel down off her. He runs his hand down her front, smoothing out his shirt, brushing against one of her nipple piercings lightly enough she almost throws her head back against him. He leaves the towel on the floor and guides her back to the bed, completely naked except for his shirt covering her decency, and Toni _cannot handle_ that thought.

He doesn’t give her even a second’s chance to protest, simply lifting the blanket and steering her under it, deftly following her in. The lights dim considerably (and Toni is once again wondering whose side JARVIS is on; she did not approve this behavior, she needs to have a talk with him). The long line of Winter’s chest is _burning_ against her back, a constant and unforgettable distraction from near everything else (except the slightly cooler shape of his dog tags, something she can’t stop thinking about). She’s starting to think that’s a _thing_ for him with how often he plants himself against her there, refusing to let her have anyone else take his spot.

Her legs rub together, slick heat and the emptiness throbbing inside her worsening at the new position. She’s on her right side, her head pillowed partially with his arm, a comfort she has guiltily taken advantage of over these past weeks; his left arm runs down her side, _horrendously_ slow (the forever-cool touch of the metal always thrilling her body whenever he handles her), and settles on the hem of his shirt he’s put her in. Toni thought she would tense, thought she would be opposed, but with the blanket over them, shielding her from his eyes, she almost wants to play with fire, almost wants to cross another one of the ~~arbitrary~~ lines she’s drawn in the sand between them.

A soft gasps escapes her at the feel of his lips suddenly on her neck, still exposed even lying like this, randomly trailing across the uncovered skin until he reaches her ear, the piercings she has there as well, and _bites_ down around the two on her lobe. She groans out, hips instinctively rolling back, his cock a hard line against her ass as he _rumbles_ in return. His hand pushes her shirt up, rubbing against her exposed thighs, slowly running up until the shirt is bunched up just under her breasts, completely naked below that. Her heart is jackrabbiting in her chest, her breathing steadily increasing—and no matter how much she wants this, she’s not ready, she wants to drag this out (won’t let herself have this) even as she wants to just flip them and _fuck herself on his cock_ —

“I can’t—” she moans out, her hand running up his metal one and holding it still, trying not to squirm against him, knowing that she truly _can’t_ do this with him while she still has that indecision rattling around the back of her mind, with the horrible guilt of possibly hurting Steve, regardless of how long it’s been since they broke up, “Winter, _please_ , I can’t—”

He shushes her, his mouth lingering a kiss on the curve of her shoulder, and how she wishes she could see the expression on his face—

“Go to sleep, Tonechka,” he orders, his voice firm but not unkind. He settles deeper into the bed, walking his fingers up and down her stomach, never reaching for more, a movement that slowly soothes her until she manages to actually drift off.

As it seems her life is escalating this thing between her and Bucky and Winter, she isn’t very alarmed to wake with a heavy feeling in her lungs, as if she hasn’t drawn in a deep breath for a while (which isn’t even a surprise to her, because even with the arc reactor removed she still has reduced lung capacity that Extremis and her surgeons weren’t able to return to her). She groans unhappily, trying to wrestle the super soldier off from on top of her.

“Bucky,” she whines, hands jostling at his shoulders, and then immediately has her hands captured and _shoved_ into the bed next to her head, a startled gaze staring at her much too alertly for having just awoken. Guilt starts to crawl up her throat, working to consume her, and she tries to wrestle it down.

“Toni? What—” he garbles, processing the situation quickly, and a gorgeous scarlet blush starts snaking its way around his face and chest. He tries to sit up at the same time _she_ notices he’s nestled between her legs (her uncovered, exposed legs, the shirt still shucked up under her breasts, and _no_ ). She hastily grabs his arms and drags him back onto her, an _oomph_ of exhaled breath leaving her at the return of uncomfortable pressure.

She chuckles at the look on his face. “Come on, handsome. You can roll off me but leave the blankets. It’s a bit _nippy_ out today, if you catch my drift.”

She knows he does because his abdomen tightens, friction against the uppermost part of the apex of her thighs shooting like _lightning_ through her, and his blush nearly seems to double. Toni’s chuckles turn into a full blown laugh, beaming up at him in the morning light. She doubts she’ll ever get over the high of waking up next to Bucky Barnes, especially a _shirtless_ Bucky Barnes, even if they aren’t having sex.

His face betrays his distractedness and she decides she’ll have to take matters into her own hands, extracting herself from his lax grip, shifting so she’s sitting up, the shirt falling and covering her effortlessly. His eyes dart between the wall behind her and a specific spot on her neck. She gently cradles his face, perhaps for just a moment too long—kissing first one cheek and then the other, her grin somehow managing to widen even further, and then exits the bed and heads off to the closet.

“Better get ready yourself soon, Bucky, dear. Don’t think you want to deal with a disappointed Captain America if you’re late to training! We’ve got an hour!”

That seems to kickstart him and he scrambles out of the bed, a small grunt as he nearly falls off, and then calls to her, “Doll, I think you’s tha one who’s gonna be late, with a mark like that.”

Toni’s eyes widen and she twirls toward the mirror, looking at the absolutely _massive_ hickey right next to her ear. She squeaks in surprise.

“Winter, I will _murder you in your sleep_!” she yells, chasing after Bucky as he runs away, cackling in delight.

Of course, she's late, but even Steve’s patented disapproving glare isn’t enough to ruin her happy mood, which only heightens when she has a chance to smack Winter on the ass as she flies by him, snickering at his outrage and Steve’s reprimand.

When she notices the smile he tries to hide on his face, her brain _clicks_ , and Toni quietly realizes once again that she _likes_ Winter, the same as she likes Bucky.

* * *

Bucky enters her workshop later that night, eyebrows drawn tight and his metal arm unnaturally still.

“Hey, sugar,” he drawls, capturing her attention. Toni peaks up at him from where she’s tinkering with one of Natasha’s widow bites, sees his face, and abruptly stands up and approaches him.

“Bucky! What happened? Is something wrong with your arm?” He stops as she reaches him, her hands immediately going to both his arm and his face, gently rubbing between his eyes almost absently while trailing over the metal arm socket. “Don’t scowl, you’ll give yourself premature lines. Honestly. Tell me what happened? Can I help you?”

He's silent for a moment, his gaze fixated on her, the oddest expression flickering for just a moment through his eyes. She tilts her head slightly, a small smile warming her face as her hand continues to smooth across his brow, and then she realizes what she's doing and jerkily drops her hand, eyes darting to the safer territory around his arm instead.

“So, what's the issue, soldier?” she asks, trying to regain a sense of equilibrium.

“I think somethin’ came loose durin’ drills today,” he finally says, “‘round the elbow.”

“Come here, then! Let's open it up and see what I can do for you,” she chirps, leading him over to her workbench. He sits down on the table (because she learned _never_ to put him in a chair, no matter what style or shape, when she's working with his arm), and he holds his arm out with a wince as she grabs the tools she needs. The issue is in his inner elbow, and she steps between his spread legs to better work, opening up a panel and gently peeking inside. She can feel how tense, how still, he is, despite not actually touching him. She does her best to ignore him, focusing on his arm instead, and a few minutes later she finds the problem.

“Seems one of the gears got pushed out of alignment,” she mutters. “Easy enough of a fix. You want me to turn off the sensations or just fix it real quick?”

She's learned to always ask and never to assume, when it comes to both doing something that'll hurt him or cut off his feeling: it's a toss up most days on which method he prefers.

“Jus’ one gear?” he asks. She nods. “Just go ‘head ‘n’ fix it real quick, then. Would take longer ta cut off the feelin’ for something short.”

“Okay,” she says, and then deftly pulls on the gear and repositions it, taking all of twenty seconds, and she can hear his breathing tighten until he relaxes all at once as the gear slides back into place, the painful sensations disappearing immediately. She double checks that everything is fine and nothing is damaged, then sets her tools aside and closes the paneling.

His right hand reaches out and settles on her hip, effortlessly holding her in place as he flexes, checking his arm over for any pain. He finds none, because if there's anything to be said about Toni Stark, it's that her tech is _flawless_. She watches the smooth glide of metal on metal as his arm adjusts perfectly, organically, to each minuscule movement he makes, and then realizes his hand is coming up and cupping her face, turning her gaze toward his.

His eyes are _blazing_ , that glimmer of pure Bucky Barnes cockiness strong and sure focused completely on her. She feels the temperature suddenly rise, a blush crawling up her skin, and then he says, low and gravelly and filled with something she can't completely identify, “You _are_ a good girl, ain'tchya? Pleasin’ me so sweet.”

Toni falters, her body jumping, _instantly_ responding to the praise with a sharp, inhaled breath. She can't seem to look away from his eyes, too captivated, the storm in his beautiful irises more than enough to lure her in and hold her tight. She debates for just a moment on how to respond, her heart tripping, and then breathes, quiet, so quiet, falling over a precipice headfirst toward him—

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

Toni struggles to remember just why she's keeping him at a distance, why she's denying both him _and herself_ the chance to explore each other.

* * *

They circle each other the rest of the week, the tension in the air buzzing around them—and then the day of the gala arrives, and she wakes up wrapped in his arms, warm and rested and happily content. She slowly pulls herself out of his grasp, stretching on the side of the bed and picking up her tablet, looking at the time and debating how much work she can get done before she has to start getting ready. Just enough that she could probably finish that upgrade on Sam’s wings she’s been meaning to work on, and maybe squeeze in that new arrowhead Clint asked her to look into, and possibly—

“Hey, no, sugar, I c’n hear your mind workin’ in m’ sleep. Come back ov’ ‘ere.”

Strong arms encircle her waist, a hand pulling away her tablet and placing it back on the side table. Bucky drags her over to him, laying her back down and pushing one of his legs between her thighs. He shoves his face into her neck, his beard tickling her skin just enough to make her shiver. “Bucky, I still have work I’ve gotta do. I can’t laze the day away in bed.”

“It’ll wait ‘til later, jus’ gimme a bit longer ta cuddle,” he argues. Toni debates pushing the issue, then determines cuddling for a bit longer won’t hurt. She leans back against him, relishing the touches between them, and actually does end up falling back asleep.

After some hours pass, she wakes to him running his hands through her hair, having turned over at some point so her head is pillowed on his chest. She hums a good morning greeting, completely relaxed and enjoying herself.

“Time ta rise ‘n’ shine, doll,” Bucky rumbles under her ear. “JARVIS says ya gotta start gettin’ ready now so as we ain’t late.”

Toni blinks open her eyes and looks up into his face. An odd feeling blooms to life in her chest.

“Five more minutes?” she asks.

His smile is soft and consuming all at once as he nods, kissing the top of her forehead and then letting her nuzzle her head on his chest again.

* * *

Toni and Natasha are standing next to the wall of the Maria Stark Foundation’s charity gala. All the Avengers are present: Thor and Jane slow dancing in a corner; Rhodey and Carol twirling in circles across the main floor; Clint, Steve, and Sam enthusiastically gesturing to a small crowd; and Bruce (despite how uncomfortable he claimed to have been before arriving) speaking to an enthusiastic Helen Cho near the punch table. Toni smiles to herself at the sight of him, of all her friends, looking so happy. She purposely avoids looking for Bucky, her cheeks heating up at the mere thought of seeing him.

“Tonechka, I’m not sure—” Nat begins, reaching out for Toni’s arm, but Toni turns her attention back to her and interrupts immediately. She frames Nat’s hands with her own, a sly smirk and smoke-lined eyes flirting up toward her. Natasha looks put out, her effortless mask never lasting very long around Toni anymore.

“Nat, it’s _fine_. Come on.” She pulls Natasha close, her lips curving into a genuine smile and excitement lighting up her eyes. “It’s _my_ charity ball; I think I can choose who to dance with without being interrupted. You can show me some more of those Russian dance movies I know you’ve been wanting to teach me,” she winks. Natasha sighs but allows herself to be led toward the center of the room.

Toni knows she cuts an impressive sight, amplified by her proximity to Nat. [Her hair is half down, the back of it styled into a bow](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/435153229618085889/724009311277285527/image1.png?width=306&height=434) (Bucky’s fingers from earlier trailing through her hair are still a bright, persistent memory, of him rubbing his fingers and her shampoo into her scalp near _torture_ —). Her dress _flows_ down her body: a hot rod red sweetheart neckline with large off-the-shoulder sleeves cover her arms to the wrist, snipping in to her waist, and two thigh-high slits along the sides of her legs, falling just above her ankles, giving her plenty of room to run and dance as she needs but easily showing off her curves. Natasha next to her absolutely _stuns_ , black with red accents running down her satin bandage dress, maroon hair gently curled and pinned in a high ponytail. Toni knows that, despite how restricting it appears, Nat has just as much ( _if not more_ ) movement available to her as Toni does.

The live band Pepper hired begins a sultry song, the whiskey smooth crooner humming out the beginning lyrics; the crowd disperses and quiets, focusing their attention as the two of them begin their dance. [A Russian twist to the bachata](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdVg1ptQC1w), sure to cause a stir, their hips swaying with constant touches passing between the two of them, their hands never leaving the other—

It draws the attention that Toni thrives off of, her smile widening as she presses her forehead close to Natasha, easily following Nat’s steps as she leads Toni around the room. She spies an easy smile on Nat’s face as well; knows that she enjoys the spotlight just as much.

“We could get out of here,” Toni whispers, a giggle following quickly after as Nat rolls her eyes. Toni can see Clint over her shoulder enraptured just as much as anyone else here, his eyes intent and following Nat’s body closely. “But I think I spy a certain archer that would love to take you home even more than me.”

Nat is too good at hiding her reactions, especially with this many eyes on her, but Toni would _almost_ swear she sees a blush on her face. She’s flipped around, dancing along Nat’s front, and nearly stops breathing, her hips stuttering for a half step before Nat corrects her. Nat leans in closer, breaths in her ear, “I think, красотка, there’s someone here who would love to take _you_ home instead.”

Toni locks eyes with Bucky, his [three-piece tux](https://media.revistagq.com/photos/5dc5589210270d00086c9d77/master/w_2700,c_limit/GQ050118Suits-02.jpg) _sinfully_ tight, nearly bursting around his metal arm. Toni feels a sudden warm pool of _heat_ in her lower stomach blossom to life, her hips grinding against Nat, throwing her arm up and body rolling; she tosses her head back against Nat’s shoulder, staring at Bucky through her eyelashes, and puts on a display, one of her hands running down her neck, the center of her chest, her stomach, a bare _hint_ of too far south before cutting to the side and following the outline of her thigh. Her mind hazes peacefully, focused entirely on his reactions toward her movements. His eyes are dark, roving over her body with each movement of her hips, and his mouth hangs the _barest_ bit open, tongue peeking out to wet his lips. Toni resists a shiver, bites her lip in return, and then flips around and presses chest to chest with Natasha.

“I think you’re right, darling.”

The dance finishes with Toni laid out on Natasha’s outstretched hand as she holds her up by the small of her back, catching Bucky’s eye again for just a moment.

This is _definitely_ another line crossed, but Toni is slowly finding she cares less and less.

As the crowd claps for them, Clint comes stalking over and smiles at the two of them, _smiles at Nat_ , and says something quietly before dragging her off by the hand. Toni grins at their backs.

“I don’t think I can quite follow a couple’a jive bombers like you two,” a lighthearted voice drawls from behind her, “but may I have this dance nonetheless?”

Toni turns around in glee, the sight of a blushing Steve Rogers brightening an already happy mood. She reaches for his outstretched hand, a simple waltz beginning, and inclines her head.

“Anything for you, Capsicle,” she cheekily grins, enjoying his fond, put-upon look.

“I remember when you taught me how to dance,” Steve reminisces. “I think I stepped on your toes about two hundred times.”

“Oh, but look at you now!” Toni laughs, and with a wink, adds, “Maybe you’re not up to Natasha’s level, but you’re still fun to dance with.”

Steve huffs out a laugh, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. She can see the questions and concerns running behind his baby blue eyes and Toni knows she only has to wait a moment before he lets her know what it is he’s thinking. As always, he fails to disappoint.

“Toni,” he starts, “it doesn't matter to me what’s happened between us; I’m always going to support you and be here for you.” His eyes dart shiftily to the side. “We didn’t work out, and I know you blame yourself for that, but it was both of us at fault. Relationships are a two-way street, after all. I could’ve been more understanding of your needs, but I was too busy latchin’ on to the first good thing I found in this century. I don’t want you to suffer, or punish yourself, or feel like you have to put me first in your life, especially like this.”

Toni locks her eyes onto his chest, unable to meet his eyes, and he moves his hand out of hers to catch her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. The sincerity and love that’s there hurts her all over again, and the guilt inside her doubles.

She knows she’s not a good person; knows that the red in her ledger is the most prominent of everyone on the team. Her weapons are still in circulation around the globe, terrorists and HYDRA and villains alike all using them against innocent civilians and the very people Toni swore to protect. She doubts she’ll ever break even, and hearing the paragon of virtue and justice tell her that something she’s directly involved in isn’t completely her fault is nearly too much for her to handle. As much as Steve is her best friend (because Rhodey isn’t her closest friend, but irrevocably her _brother_ ), he is still Captain America.

Before she can respond, he continues, his voice strong and sure. “I know you and Bucky are dancing around each other, Toni. It’s okay. You don’t have to hold yourself back because of me. He makes you happy. You make him happy. Why wouldn’t I want the two people I love the most in the world to be happy together?”

“I’ll just hurt him, Steve. It’s all I ever seem to do. I hurt you, didn’t I?” The words are spat out of her mouth, and Steve’s grip on her chin tightens the barest bit. “No, Steve. I will. I’ll end up forgetting something important, or I’ll overwhelm him, or I’ll trigger something and he’ll end up hurt, and I can’t do that, okay? I know… Yes, okay, I have feelings for him. For him and…” she breathes in, holds it, lets it out, “him and Winter both, Spangles. I can’t hurt either of them.”

His face tightens at the mention of the Winter Soldier, and Toni knows Steve struggles more than anyone to accept the other personality inhabiting Bucky’s body. His hand drops down, settling in hers again, and they dance together in silence while he parses out his thoughts.

Toni understands Steve is wary of the Winter Soldier being close to Toni, worries _Bucky_ won’t be able to shake _Winter_ and he’ll end up hurting her. She just doesn’t know how to convince him that Winter would protect her with everything he has—and that thought is like a shock to her system: how, even though she’s grown to like Winter, she feels confident enough in him that she can so suddenly be positive he won’t hurt her, that she’s finally completely accepted him and _trusts_ him.

“You should talk to Bucky,” he finally murmurs. “Just tell him how you feel. You deserve happiness, Toni. Maybe you’ll hurt him. Maybe he’ll hurt you. But are you going to tell me that a _maybe_ is enough to stop Toni Stark from going after what she wants?”

It’s like a cold shower, hearing him phrase it that way.

“No,” she finally whispers. “ _Maybe_ isn’t capable of stopping me.”

He cracks a smile at that. “If that ain’t the truth,” he replies, and they finish their dance in calm, companionable silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> да - yes  
> киска - kitty cat (feminine)  
> красотка - pretty woman/lady
> 
> yes I know I have an issue with using too much italics sorry not sorry huehue


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta (and major cheerleading) for this chapter done by the wonderful Vania1824. all remaining mistakes are my own x and thank you to ruquas for looking over the final scene for me and offering advice!
> 
> hover/check end notes for Russian translations (:

Toni sits on her thoughts for the next few days. She reflects on her feelings, if she’s willing to let herself try a relationship again, a relationship with Bucky, with Winter, and panics over the idea of hurting them. It gets to the point where she gets so lost in her head that she’s constantly being startled by the team when they talk to her or show up around her. Eventually, Toni finds herself cornered by Natasha in the gym.

“Tonechka,” Natasha greets her, “come join me.”

Toni wearily goes over to the barre, shifting from foot to foot. Natasha huffs and begins performing stretches, eyeing Toni until she joins in. Toni awkwardly performs a grande plié, ignoring Natasha’s fond look of exasperation at her gracelessness.

“I thought you and Barnes were going to stop dancing around each other. What’s caused you to backslide like this? The both of you have been moping around the tower since the gala.”

“We—I—there has been no moping! Do I look like a moper?” Toni protests, managing to hold onto her stance for barely ten seconds before she deflates under Natasha’s glare. “Okay, but it’s not _moping_. I just—Steve basically… gave us his blessing? And it’s weird to have your ex-boyfriend turned best friend tell you he wants you to bang his _other_ best friend. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to sort my thoughts and I feel even more confused now than I did before. Like, I had all these lines drawn up in the sand, then Steve came walking over and kicked all of them until there wasn’t anything left and told me to just go for it.”

Natasha watches her carefully. Toni can see the sharp intelligence in her eyes as she takes her in and it makes Toni squirm until she gives in, dropping to the floor, watching Natasha’s warm-up instead of joining in. They sit in silence until Natasha finally sighs, standing up straight and reaches down to Toni, offering a hand up. Toni takes it.

“We’re going shopping,” Natasha announces. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes.”

“We’re—what?” Toni blinks.

“Chop chop, Тонька.”

* * *

Natasha drags Toni to a nail salon and they both get mani-pedis. After that, they end up at a high-end lingerie shop. Toni nearly about faces as soon as she’s in the door, but Natasha grabs her arm and pulls her toward the back of the store.

“Natasha, there is _no way_ —” Toni hisses, only to stop as a saleswoman appears in front of them, perky as can be.

“Hi, welcome to Agent Provocateur! I’m Jessica! Please let me know if I can assist you two lovely ladies with anything!” Toni’s face reddens.

“Thank you, Jessica, we will be sure to do that,” Natasha smiles. When she wanders off, Natasha turns to Toni and says, “Look, I know you’re not going to be as into all this as you could be, but I think something tasteful will certainly help you to break the mold, so to speak… And maybe something extra for later down the road won’t hurt either.”

Toni sighs, eyeing Natasha. “Okay. Show me an example of what you mean and we’ll see from there.”

* * *

Natasha has Toni buy four outfits. Two are slips that Toni grudgingly has to admit are actually as tasteful (yet teasing) as Natasha promised. The other two are definitely enough to leave Toni flustered, but Natasha insists and Toni ends up relenting.

When they get back to the tower, Natasha throws Toni into her room with a simple, “Put on the first one. I’ll be back in a moment.” Then she’s running out and Toni is left staring at the slips.

She puts on the first one, a [simple red piece](https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/gisele-slip-1376) with a short thigh slit and lace under her breasts, emphasising her chest without the underwire needed. The material is thin enough that her nipple piercings stand out quite obviously against the fabric. Toni examines herself in Natasha’s mirror, idly thinking the outfit _is_ rather beautiful, and finds herself excited to receive Nat’s feedback.

Then Steve walks in.

“Nat—” Steve stammers.

“ _Natalia_!” Toni screeches.

Natasha laughs at both of them.

“ _Honestly_ , I figured you would rather have Steve looking at you instead of Clint,” Natasha says, as if it makes perfect sense to throw Toni’s ex-boyfriend in front of her while wearing lingerie she bought for his best friend.

Toni may or may not have a hang up about her choice in partners.

“Just—come here—” Natasha walks over and grabs Toni by the hand, leading her over to the center of the room and then glaring at Steve until he comes over, blushing wonderfully. “Tell her how she looks.”

She makes Toni do a slow spin, slowing off the slip as it shapes to her body. Steve’s eyes are dark, eyelids hooded, as he shuffles from one foot to the other. His hands fly from in front of him to his sides, to crossed in front of his chest, and then settle into a loose parade rest. Toni relaxes at the display, somehow comforted to see Steve as lost as she is.

“You look beautiful, Toni,” Steve says, and the earnest honesty has her blushing all over again.

“Okay, good, now put on the other one,” Natasha commands, pushing her into the closet.

When Toni comes back out, it’s with a [similar slip](https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/agnese-short-slip-2615), but this time see-thru lace frames her body on either side and ends in twin slits. Toni feels more exposed, as if the wrong movement will expose her nipples.

“What if one of my piercings catches the lace?” Toni asks.

“I think it’s too far to the side to do that,” Natasha mutters absently.

“Steve?” Toni says, looking over at the man. He gives her a small smile, cheeks red, then frames his mouth with one hand as he examines her. Toni spins for him again, ending in a silly pose to make him laugh.

“You’re gorgeous in this one, too, Toni. The red is definitely your color. And the lace is an eye-catcher; I’m sure Bucky’ll love it.”

Toni preens under the attention, looking over at Natasha’s grin.

“Do you want to put on the other outfits?” Natasha asks.

Toni blushes bright red and stammers out a refusal.

“Alright, that’s okay. You did well, Tonechka,” Natasha mutters, hugging Toni close to her. Steve walks over and hesitantly puts a hand on the back of her neck, and Toni looks up into his happy face. She struggles to hold back a grin.

“You really think Bucky will like it?” she whispers.

“Yeah, Toni. He’s not going to know what hit him.”

* * *

One of the understated advantages of JARVIS having a direct link to Toni’s brain is being able to text people without anyone knowing.

I don’t know if I can do this | sent 2333

You’ll be fine, Tonechka. You know you’re beautiful. You know Bucky is attracted to you. Just play it off like it isn’t a big deal. | received 2332

so you say!! you know Steve is the only person who’s seen me like… this | sent 2333

Bucky is a sure thing, дорогая. You just need to let yourself have him. | received 2333

I’m just nervous | sent 2333

Верь в себя, Тонь. Что тебе терять? | received 2334

Toni sighs, staring at herself in the mirror inside her closet. She doesn’t understand how she can be so nervous at the idea of wearing lingerie around Bucky when he’s already seen her in a towel. The thought boggles her mind.

She’s Toni Stark. She can do this. She psychs herself up, gently patting her hair, and then puts on her game face and opens the closet door.

Bucky is already asleep on the bed, his hand resting over where she normally sleeps. Toni debates back and forth, wondering if she should wake him up or not. She went through all the trouble to dress up (dress down?) for him, and to see it potentially going to waste causes her to deflate the tiniest bit.

he’s already asleep, Natasha!!! | sent 2339

Well then, have it be a surprise for when he wakes up. ;) | received 2339

Toni huffs silently, watching the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s chest and the smoothed over lines that normally adorn his face.

Toni turns off the lights and slides in next to him, forgoing the blanket and instead settling her back against his chest. He wakes up just enough to pull her close, and then he’s asleep again, his nose buried in her hair.

* * *

Toni wakes up on her stomach, her body pleasantly warm. It takes her a few moments to realize the cool soothing sensation on her upper back is from Bucky drawing his metal fingers along her skin.

“Good mornin’, sugar,” Bucky whispers. Toni opens her eyes, her face inches from his own. His eyes are dark, very carefully watching just her face. Toni hums, overtaken by the urge to close the gap between them and kiss him.

“Good morning, handsome,” she responds, just as quietly.

They lay there, Bucky’s hand soft along her back, and neither of them say anything for many long minutes as they bask in the other’s presence. Toni feels herself beginning to drift off, catches herself, and flips over to her back. Bucky’s hand repositions and ends up on her stomach, simply resting there.

“What’s with the fancy outfit, doll? Not th’ I don’t love it; ya look beautiful,” Bucky says, and Toni notices his eyes sliding down her frame now, settling for a moment too long on her chest, and Toni hides a smirk.

“Natasha wanted some new sleepwear and made me buy a couple. It’s actually pretty comfortable.”

Bucky doesn’t respond verbally, his hand instead sliding along the seam on the side, reaching the lace and then following it around the underside of her breast, settling his hand back down so his thumb is just touching the center of her chest and his other fingers splay out under her breast. It stretches the fabric out, moulding it like a second skin so that her nipple piercing is taut against it, emphasized even more. Toni arches into his touch the slightest bit, a ball of heat settling between her thighs.

“‘Mind me ta thank ‘er,” he mutters. His breathing is calm, but Toni can see the sheer want hiding behind the façade. It ignites something in her and she bites her lip, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Just wait until you see the other one. I like it even more.”

He’s too well trained to let his hand twitch, but even still Toni can see an undercurrent of tension enter his frame. She doesn’t know if that says more about her skills or how well she’s able to read him.

“Lookin’ forward to it, babydoll.”

* * *

When she puts on the second slip that evening, Toni distractedly wonders if this is enough to cause Bucky to break and take her. The thrill of showing herself off to him is a major draw, and Toni can’t decide if she wants him to hold out for longer or to give in already.

She doesn’t hear the closet door open until Bucky shows up in the mirror. She flicks her eyes over to meet his, and the creeping smirk that takes over his face sends a shiver down her back.

“Don’ mind me, doll. Jus’ pretend I ain’t here.”

Toni blinks at him, her mind going over how to respond, before she’s suddenly hit with the potential realization that he wants her to put a show on for him.

Well.

Toni traces the lace crawling up her side, calloused fingers pressing against the barely covered skin. She reaches the slit and pulls it to the side, angling her thigh so the fabric stretches around it. Her other hand goes up to her hair, scrunching it up as she tips her head back, maintaining eye contact the whole time. She draws her hand up, this pass even slower, following the inside circles in lazy loops. When she reaches the top, she walks her fingers down to just under her breast, then cups it, rubbing her thumb over the hidden piercing. She can feel Bucky’s heady gaze following her, and she lets herself pinch her nip with a muted gasp before releasing it, trailing her hand back down, grasping the bottom of the slip and gathering it together, turning her body partially around so she can see the identical lace stripes stretched against the sides of her back and ass as well. She lifts it up, keeping herself covered, if only just.

She pauses in her movements, letting her chest heave more than necessary, and then spins around and saunters toward him, enjoying the flash of surprise in his blown eyes.

“You know, you’re dressed too much to sleep, Sarge. Let me help you,” she coos, her hands grasping the edges of his sweater and pulling it up, nails dragging along his skin. His muscles jump under her touch, and Toni can see the barely restrained power hidden inside him when his skin ripples as she draws the clothing over his head and tosses it to the side. She reaches for his pants, fingers brushing the barest bit at the front of them, and then moves them up again.

Bucky reaches out, a predatory grin crossing his face, and grabs her hips, his fingers tight enough to leave bruises. It sends a shiver through her.

 _God_ , but is he addicting, his head tilted _just so slightly_ to look down at her, eyes blown wide and near completely black. He looks so hungry and like he knows she’s the only thing that can sate him, like he wants to crack her open and drink her down and fill her up until the only thing left she can taste or smell or feel is _him_. It’s too much for her.

She feels heavy, like she can’t think straight, touching him as she inches her way up his body under his unnerving gaze. She continues north, her hand wrapping around his dog tags—pulling on them, looking up into his eyes, seeing the possessiveness of her touching something so intimately _his_ , her thumb rubbing over his social, 32557038 pressing and catching against her calluses—and then she moves on, rubbing gently at his collarbone, wrapping her hand around his metal shoulder, the one she built him, the one that reminds him and everyone that sees him that he’s already been claimed as _hers_ the same as she’s—

She shivers, a full body thing, and his wicked smile only seems to widen.

“Come on, doll,” he whispers between them, a quiet drawl so deep and smooth she nearly squeezes her thighs together in response, “why don’t ya tell me what it is you’re aimin’ for here?”

She knows they’re crossing a line—but then she stops herself and thinks, does it matter if they cross lines anymore? The only thing holding them back is her, because she told Winter _she can’t_ , and he and Bucky both have respected that. But she _wants_ him to break, _wants_ him to take her, but knows he won’t until she gives the go ahead.

She had just wanted to help him, at first, the way she _always_ wants to help people. She’s done too many things she needs to atone for to truly take something for herself unthinkingly, and Bucky is exactly the kind of thing she would take for herself if she gave herself a chance. She doesn’t want to ruin him.

Well, never let it be said Toni Stark makes logical choices. She’s an impulsive woman through and through. 

She moans lightly, a gentle _hmm_ crawling up out of her throat, and tilts her head to the side, her hair falling and brushing against his arm. His hand twitches against her skin as if he’s barely restraining himself from grabbing her by the hair. She leans forward, using the hand she’s placed on his shoulder for leverage. She brings her other hand up from where it’s been pressed against his apollo’s belt, running it through his hair until she has enough of it caught; tightening her grip just enough to turn his head to the side, she presses her breasts against his chest through her slip. Toni slowly bats her eyes at him, leaning up and forward even more until her teeth can catch on his ear, and then stops herself—

“Bucky bear,” she _breathes_ against him, “we’re just getting ready to sleep, aren’t we? Getting ourselves and each other nice and _relaxed_ so we can lie down and dream of... mmm, well, it’s a bit _hard_ to _not_ know what you’re wanting to dream about, isn’t it, darling?”

His hands tighten against her hips, like a steel vice, dragging her toward him in a long, slow motion. She can feel the way his muscles have tensed up against her, a soldier preparing for battle, barely restrained _power_ gnashing at the bit for release. His cock juts into her stomach, hidden behind his jeans.

She can feel him tensing, preparing to respond, maybe to rise to her bait, and Toni makes the split second decision to end this momentary teasing, pulling back and out of his grip, a grin on her lips.

“Think it’s time for me to sleep now. Don’t take too long before joining me, dear.”

She almost expects him to grab her, to pull her back into his body, but he doesn’t, just watches as she exits the closet and crawls into the bed, languidly stretching out. (She can’t tell if she’s disappointed or relieved by his inaction.) It’s only a few moments later that he’s exiting the closet himself, his jeans removed and cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs, joining her in the bed, pulling her on top of him again, her legs straddling his thighs and her head pillowed on his chest. Toni consciously has to stop herself from rocking down onto him.

“Ya betta be careful, doll,” he mutters against the crown of her head. “Winter ain’t gonna have half th’ patience ‘n’ restraint I do.”

Toni’s confidence soars at those words. She thinks of the next outfit she bought, thinks of the months of tension between her and Bucky and Winter, and lazily grins.

“Think I might talk to him tomorrow, if it’s all the same to you.”

He stills completely under her.

“Ya sure—” he rasps, breathing in sharply, “Ya sure that’s what ya want, baby?”

Toni considers what he’s saying, what he’s implying. She knows that as much as Bucky has come to understand Winter is a part of him, that he’s most likely always going to have two separate personalities, Bucky still struggles to accept that other people (that _Toni_ ) want him for everything he is. If she gives herself to Winter, shows Bucky that she can accept the part of him that murdered in the name of HYDRA for decades (murdered her parents, as much as she tells him it _saved_ her from Howard), then hopefully Bucky will trust her when she finally tells him she loves him. Maybe it will help her be okay accepting this happiness for herself, too.

Toni pushes herself up, takes notice of the hesitance written plainly across his face, and then leans back down, intentions clear, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

Yes. This is what she wants.

Kissing Bucky is like coming home, like finding a missing puzzle piece after years of searching. His lips are soft, parted the tiniest bit against hers, and she cradles his cheek, angling his head more to the side. His stubble surprisingly doesn’t scratch, soft prickles rubbing against her skin where he cradles her upper lip between his, and Toni has to stop herself from shaking apart. She feels completely overwhelmed, and a tiny gasp escapes her, unbidden. She’s like a sunflower and Bucky is the sun, opening her blossoms and facing him, following him, her world narrowing to this single, beautiful moment under his careful, guiding light.

Toni has been so worried about destroying Bucky that she never stopped to think he would destroy her, too.

“Yeah,” she says, pulling away from him just long enough to answer. “I’m sure.”

* * *

Bucky is already out of bed when Toni wakes up. She lies in bed for a while and lets her thoughts flow over her body: her kiss with Bucky last night had been sweet, tender, _electric_ —everything she could’ve wanted from a first kiss with him. She feels floaty, happy, _confident_. Now that she and Bucky have come to explicitly acknowledge the mutual attraction between the two of them, Toni wants nothing else than to show Winter the same, to impress herself upon him and drive him _wild_ , and have both of them for herself.

Toni pulls out her tablet, looking at her agenda for the day. Her eyes are drawn to the reminder of hobby night and she grins, inspiration trickling through her. She stands up and goes to the closet, ruminating over what would work best, and when she decides, she pulls out her phone.

hey, can you come to my room? need your help with something | sent 0921

Toni sits back on her bed, chewing on her thumb while waiting for the response.

Sure. Give me five. | received 0922

Toni grins and looks back at her tablet, pulling up the designs for an upgraded earpiece that will change with him when Bruce switches to the Hulk.

A knock on her door just under five minutes later snaps Toni out of her thoughts.

“It’s open, Steve,” she calls. The door opens and Steve walks in, his hair damp; Toni figures he must’ve been in the shower when she had texted. He shuts the door behind him and looks over at her. Absentmindedly, she says, “Lock the door, would you?”

“Hey, Toni,” he greets. He flicks the lock and then walks over toward her, sitting on the bed with a leg pulled under him, facing her. “So, what did you need help with?”

“Well…” She hesitates and looks up to meet his eyes, taking note of his flushed cheeks.

“You know I’m here for you, whatever it is. You don’t need to feel self-conscious or worried around me,” Steve says.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Toni lets out a breath, then scoots over, bumping her knee against Steve’s. “I—I talked to Bucky a little. And I’m going to… kick it up a notch. With Winter. But I need your help? Please?” For all her false bravado, her hesitance is obvious.

“What are you thinking of?” Steve asks. He reaches out, placing a hand on her bouncing leg, settling it, and massages it, up her thigh and back down. Toni smiles up at him.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, Steve. Okay? Do you understand?” Toni says, her voice stern. Steve’s expression smooths out, the Captain America visage flickering to life as he decisively nods at her. “Okay. So, hobby night is tonight, right? Right. And it’s Clint’s turn to pick. I overheard him say he wants to play darts—which, by the way, sounds too close to archery to count as a secondary hobby, but whatever—so I was thinking of wearing something to, uh, rile him up.”

Steve’s face is impassive. “How are you wanting my help with that?”

“I need you to be—handsy? With me?” Toni winces. “And like I said, you can say no, it’s fine if you don’t want to or don’t feel comfortable.”

“Handsy how?”

“Like, super clingy, pretending to be angry and throwing me over your shoulder to ride up my shirt, I don’t know.”

Steve blinks at her for a moment and then tilts his head. “How is that supposed to rile him up? Seeing your ex treating you like that?”

Toni doesn’t say anything for a moment and then laughs, patting Steve’s hand. She holds up a finger, uncontrollable giggles floating from her, and walks over to the dresser, opening the drawer Winter’s taken over. She pulls out a shirt, heading toward the closet. “Just—” she chuckles, “hold on—”

She comes back out and Steve's face flicks through a barrage of emotions before blanking.

“Okay,” he says. “That’ll work.”

“Mmm, I’m glad you understand, Winghead. So you’ll help?”

“Yeah. I’ll help.”

* * *

Toni shows up that evening to the rec room in high spirits. She’s the last to arrive, hobby night already in full swing. She heads to the dartboard set up next to Bucky and Clint, who are mid-match. Steve and Natasha are sitting nearby watching the two marksmen duke it out.

“So who’s winning?” she asks, announcing her presence to the two of them. Steve looks over with a gleam in his eye and Natasha laughs as soon as she gets a look at her.

“Oh, дорогая, you look _ravishing_ ,” she purrs. Toni rolls her eyes, cocking out her hip. “And Clint is winning, obviously. I have twenty dollars and a back massage riding on his ass.”

Steve huffs, gesturing angrily at her. “Come on, Nat! It’s only two-to-one. There’s still seven games left.” 

“You’re expecting that Clint is going to miss at any point, Captain,” Natasha prods. She looks back over at Toni and a Cheshire grin breaks out on her face. “Not to mention, I can’t exactly imagine Winter being able to concentrate once he notices _you_ , Tonechka. Surprised he hasn’t yet, to be honest.”

“I’m emitting my most serious non-aggressive vibes right now. I am as scary as a kitten,” Toni jokes, taking a sip from her drink.

“There _is_ a reason he calls you киска, you know,” Natasha winks.

Steve chuckles and reaches over, pulling Toni into his lap and wrapping an arm around her, his hand snaking up and riding up the shirt just enough for the material underneath to become exposed. Natasha’s eyebrows rise up her forehead at the display.

It’s then that Clint and Bucky turn to the three of them.

“He totally just cheated! Did you—hey, Toni—did you see him just now?! He’s totally cheating!” Clint exclaimed, waving aggressively in Bucky’s direction. Toni giggles, sliding her eyes over to Bucky, and her breath catches in her throat.

 _Winter_ has his mouth parted, his hands twitching at his sides. His eyes are dark, heavy, examining her body like he already owns her, and Toni feels a flash of heat inside her. She had pulled out all the stops for tonight: [tousled hair and smokey makeup](https://66.media.tumblr.com/b725ddb85629b886419fd0732ffa97b4/tumblr_ovjyx73FoH1saqi8wo1_540.jpg), Winter’s [favorite shirt](https://petite-madame.tumblr.com/post/159721271686/i-like-the-sound-you-make-when-you-shut-up-bucky) (a plain white tee declaring _I like the sound you make when you shut up_ ), jean shorts, and [red thigh highs](https://78.media.tumblr.com/d8519198e279332b47ebe189e05554e5/tumblr_mx555fVbtC1sxuy0po1_1280.jpg) with clips holding them up disappearing inside her shorts. She can tell the moment his eyes land on her neck because he freezes, gaze riveted to the black material disappearing down into his shirt on her.

Toni tries her best to hide a pleased grin.

“Hey, let’s go play a match,” Steve whispers in her ear. “I get the feeling I’m about to lose the bet to Nat, anyway.”

He stands up and she steps down to the floor as he grabs her hand and drags her to another dartboard. Toni turns around just enough to catch Winter’s eye.

 _Your move, soldier,_ she mouths, and turns back around before she can see his reaction.

She and Steve play a game together and it ends with Toni’s victory. Steve shouts, playfully picking her up and tossing her upside down; her shirt ( _Winter’s shirt_ ) falls down again as he mercilessly tickles her belly between the strips of material. Toni laughs, crying out for mercy, only for Steve to ignore her pleas. Toni’s eyes flick over and catch Winter’s possessive gaze and she shivers, smiling slyly at him.

The night continues like that: Toni can tell the other Avengers are eyeing her outfit, Winter’s unflinching perusal of her, and how close she’s acting toward Steve. It sends a tiny thrill through her knowing that their friends are privy to the new development, even if they _are_ probably getting the wrong idea. She plays another game with Steve, then one with Natasha, then loses spectacularly to Thor. Toni loves hobby night more than any of the other team bonding nights, and she almost forgets her goal for the evening until Clint suddenly lets out a yell, pointing at Winter accusingly.

“This isn’t fair! I was playing against Bucky, not you! I should’ve won!” He huffs angrily, stalking over to where Sam is laughing hysterically and swipes his drink. Toni, seeing her chance, abandons her game (“Steve, take over for me and kick Nat’s ass.”) and saunters over to where Winter is, his attention now focused entirely on her.

“Hey there, Fullmetal,” she giggles as she reaches him, leaning against his chest. His hands immediately come up and rest on her waist, tightening his grip when he finally feels the material under his shirt that she’s wearing.

“Киска, I told you my patience in this will not last, да? And yet you continue to test me.”

Toni laughs, overwhelming emotions swirling like a witch’s brew inside her. She feels _happy_. She bites her lip, sliding her hands down his back and then straight into his back pockets, fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

“God, have I told you how fucking _hot_ and _sexy_ it is when you talk to me in Russian? Gets me so _wet_ , babe.” The grip on her hips squeezes so hard it actually hurts, and Toni _moans_ , barely managing to check the volume. “Yes, _bruise_ me, _please_. I can’t wait for you to leave your marks around my throat, bites on my chest and my thighs, your handprints on my ass—”

“Tonechka—”

“Are you gonna fuck me now, baby?” she breathes, standing on her tiptoes and leaving her face _just_ close enough to his, “Bucky said it was okay, ya know. I’ve been waiting _all night_ for you to take me up to our room. I got all dressed up and pretty just for you, but you haven’t even told me if you _like_ it—”

“ _Be quiet_ ,” he commands. Toni’s jaw makes an audible click as she closes her mouth, her eyes a dark whiskey as she examines him, and then _smirks_ and squeezes her hands on his ass—

His hands let go of her hips long enough to remove hers from their spot on his ass, placing them behind her, as if they’re in handcuffs, pointedly enough that she knows not to move them from where he’s placed them—and then he’s got a hand in the back of her hair and metal fingers rubbing against the material at her throat.

“You are putting me through a trial, aren’t you, киска? Wearing my clothing in public, showing off your body, flirting with _Rogers in front of me_ —” he breathes in, and pulls the shirt collar down, uncovering more of the outfit beneath his shirt on her. Toni gasps and rolls against him, trying to tilt her head back to expose more of herself to him. “And you ask me if I _like the outfit_.”

Toni whimpers, her mouth half open, and all she wants is for him to throw her down, rip off her shorts and fuck her in front of the other Avengers, _claim_ her, and a very small part of her brain objects to that, says she doesn’t _really_ want it like that, it’s just the hormones—

“Tones, Winter, why don’t you two come join us over here? We’re gonna watch a movie Carol picked out!” Rhodey yells, disrupting the bubble that had formed between the two of them.

Toni and Winter judge each other, and just as Toni is opening her mouth to call out to Rhodey, Winter tightens his grip in her hair, silencing her, and answers for them both, “We will join momentarily.”

Rhodey continues to watch them and then nods his head, turning back to the rest of the group. Winter drags his eyes from Toni’s to peruse the team and catches Steve’s smug grin.

Toni bites her lip, her hands twitching behind her back. She can almost taste the possessiveness rolling off of Winter and, unbidden, cants her hips against his again. The sound he makes in response has her rubbing her thighs together.

“If we weren’t in front of everyone, моя киска, I would put something in that pretty little mouth of yours since you seem to want to speak when I’ve told you not to.” He doesn’t face her as he says it, meeting Steve’s gaze head on instead, and Toni whimpers.

“Is that a promise?” she gasps, leaping into the fire. He looks away from Steve and meets her eyes again, his hand tightening on her throat, and Toni grows dizzy with need.

“Oh, киска. You will learn to love submitting for me by the time the evening is over.”

* * *

Toni feels a constant thrill under her skin as the movie progresses. Winter and her are cuddled up on a loveseat together, with him stretched out, back against the arm rest, and Toni sitting sideways in his lap. She can barely focus on her surroundings, her world narrowed to the contact between her and Winter. One of his hands rests on her leg just under the end of her shorts, occasionally playing with the clip holding up her thigh highs. His other hand is on the small of her back, rubbing underneath the straps of the bottom part of her lingerie set. Occasionally, his fingers will dip under the back of her shorts, and every time Toni uncontrollably squirms, dragging herself across his length beneath her. It makes her shiver and his grasp on her thigh tighten. His chest against her side is a distraction as well, and Toni leans against him, her arm around his shoulders and her other hand grasped in a fist on her lap.

The credits have barely begun rolling when Winter suddenly stands up with her in his arms. Without so much as a _by your leave_ to the rest of the team, he has them in the elevator headed toward her room. He doesn’t say or do anything and it leaves Toni feeling bereft after two hours of constant touches.

“So, what’s the game plan?” she asks, a small bit of leftover nerves entering her voice.

Winter hums. “I told you, did I not? You’ve been a brat all night; I think it’s about time for you to learn some manners.”

Toni’s breath catches in her throat, but she has just enough snark left to goad him, whispering, “And you think you’ll be able to do that, hmm?”

Winter’s smile is vicious, teeth bright as he examines her. “My dear киска...” They finally arrive at her bedroom; Winter steps in, closing and locking the door and placing her on the floor. He stalks backwards toward the bed, sitting down with his legs spread, looking controlled and calm and _hungry_. “You tipped your hand too early, telling me how _wet_ you are, how desperately you want me to claim you. You announced it to the whole team, wearing _my shirt_ , and all that might have been enough to get what you want—but you didn’t stop there, did you?” He smirks over at her and Toni feels her knees go weak, somehow managing to lock them in place. “No, you had to flirt with Rogers, let him _touch what is mine_ , and that isn’t something I can easily forgive. It’s not very polite of you, not respectful.”

Toni is overwhelmed with the sudden urge to apologize, her mind starting to go dizzy with her need. Before she can say or act, he’s continuing, his voice deceptively soft. “Do you want to make it up to me,  киска? Show me you can be a good girl for me, show me you understand you are _mine_?”

Toni nods, her chest heaving with each shaky exhale she releases, a gasped _yes, please_ leaving her lips and she lowers her eyes from his, her hands flexing at her sides. His grin is positively victorious.

“Then, Tonechka, you will strip to that lovely outfit you’ve been hiding from me all night and lay yourself across my lap to receive your penance.”

Toni doesn’t even hesitate, too caught up in the moment, too eager to please him. She draws her eyes back up to meet his gaze, determined to keep that contact. She reaches for her jean button, pushing it out of the opening, unzipping it and drawing her hands to the sides; swirling her hips as she pushes them down, Toni drags the tights with them, stepping out of them and arching her back when she draws herself back up to standing. Toni feels heady, powerful, even as much as she’s aroused at the scene, the power play, between the two of them. She steps over toward Winter, stalking, reaching down for the hem of his commandeered shirt, steadily pulling it up and running a hand over her breast on the way, finally tossing it over her head and holding it for just a moment—then reaches her hand out to the side and drops it on the ground, tilting her head back just enough to peruse his expression from between her eyelashes. His eyes are blown completely black, intoxicating, as they unflinchingly meet hers. She’s completely exposed, covered by only the [lingerie](https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/prudence-high-neck-underwired-bra-1459) she chose for him.

She finally steps that last bit forward and drapes herself over his lap.

Toni lets herself give in to him. A willing offering. Submission freely given.

“Punish me, then, _sir_.”

* * *

Winter’s hand is covered in calluses, decades of gun work and labor evident with every touch. They rub along her back, in between each criss-crossed strap, lifting the strands and letting them softly snap back onto her skin. The air between them is charged, quiet filling the space as he examines her skin, her gift unto him. His other hand lays between her shoulder blades, holding her prone against him, unable to get any leverage.

“I enjoy you calling me _sir_. I think you’ll continue to do that. How does that sound?” he asks.

Toni shivers. “Yes, I—I like it, too.”

“You like it, too, _sir_ ,” he corrects her.

“I like it, too, sir.”

“You will count out ten hits. If you lose count, we will start over. With each count, you will thank me for teaching you respect. Do you understand?”

Toni loses herself for a moment, but after he roughly kneads her ass, she gasps, “Yes, sir, I understand, please.”

The anticipation between them grows as he goes back to examining her, leaving Toni on edge and waiting for her punishment to start, craving it, craving whatever he gives her—and then there’s the slightest displacement of air and Winter brings his palm down on the meat of her ass.

The sound she makes at the contact is high and needy, a gasp at the harsh burning sensation that flies up to the surface. “One. Thank you, sir.”

Winter makes an approving sound, pressing his thumb into the rising skin. Toni can feel the heat from just the one slap and a shiver races down her. His other hand slides up from her shoulder blades to the nape of her neck, pressing her down into the bedding. Toni lets out a loud keen and it gets cut off with a shout as he draws his hand down again, strong and sure, against her opposite cheek.

“Two,” she moans. “Thank you, sir.”

Winter spreads her cheeks apart, rubbing them. Toni lets out a delighted hiss, and then whimpers when he brings his hand down again where her ass curves to touch her thighs.

“Three. Thank you, sir.”

He hums, lashing out twice more in succession, and Toni cries out, dropping her head with a barely restrained sob, counting the hits.

“You’re doing so well for me, Tonechka,” Winter growls. “Letting me redden that beautiful, pert ass with my hand. Are you starting to understand just to whom you belong? Your ass is _mine_ , киска, and I won’t have you forgetting it again.”

“Please,” Toni whimpers. She doesn’t know if she’s asking for more, for mercy, for what. “Please, sir, _please_.”

“My good girl, такая хорошая девочка,” Winter breathes, and Toni squirms, tears forming at the corner of her eyes as he rubs against her ass again, the heat from his punishment consuming her senses.

“Let me show how much of a good girl I can be for you, please—I want it—” Toni begs, trying to shove herself up into his hand. He pushes her back down onto the bed, smacking her again.

“Tonechka,” he says, his voice deceptively light, “I will decide when to touch my possessions, hmm? Give that control over to me. Don’t worry about when I do things. I’ll take care of you.”

“S-Six. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” she gasps.

By the time they reach ten smacks, Toni is crying, her ass on fire under Winter’s ministrations. He runs his hand down her spine, soothing, and Toni tries to focus on that feeling.

“Моя хорошая девочка,” he coos. He lifts her up and settles her on her knees on the floor in front of him, dark eyes searching her face and expression. He rubs his knuckles against her cheek, a soft caress meant to soothe. As much as his touch is now gentle, his smile is smug, a feral thing, rightly proud of himself. “You did such a good job for me, showing me you’re sorry.”

“I _am_ ,” she sobs, “I am sorry, sir.”

Toni feels that floating sensation rub against the back of her mind, asking her to give in, to let herself be consumed by this man, and slowly lets herself begin to sink into it. Everything seems so unimportant except for Winter’s touch, his presence, making sure he is satisfied, that she’s a good girl for him, _his_ good girl.

His hand straightens out and cups her face, delicately pulling her to him, and his lips brush hers, feather light—and, despite how fleeting the touch is, Toni lights up inside, a knot inside her unraveling, reaching out to him for more, silently begging.

“You’re so eager to please me, aren’t you, Tonechka?” he asks, a hair’s width away from her lips. Toni whines, half-lidded eyes staring into his. “You took your punishment so well. I think you deserve a reward.”

“Please, sir,” she breathes.

Winter pulls her body up to meet his mouth, latching onto the skin above her collarbone. He licks a trail across it, his hand petting against her hair; Toni arches up, her head falling back. She feels his metal hand trail down her side then back up, reaching one of her breasts and flicking across the metal bar in her nipple. Toni breathlessly moans, and then cries out when he pinches, a litany falling from her lips.

“Please, Winter, please—feels so good, want more—may I have more, sir? God, your _mouth_ —”

He smirks, a chuckle against her skin, and then drags his mouth along one of the straps, finally landing on her other nip, sucking it through the sheer tulle barrier. Toni’s mouth falls open, wordless. She can feel herself dripping and squeezes her legs together, her hand reaching up and grasping his hip, steadying herself.

“My Tonechka,” he mutters, biting down. Toni is overwhelmed, her head pleasantly floating higher and higher, and then Winter pulls back, staring at her face. “Unzip me, киска. Take my cock out for your mouth.”

Toni inhales sharply, her fingers reaching out and rubbing along the straining fabric of Winter’s jeans, reveling in his bitten-off groan. She pops the button and reaches in, pulling him out, her mouth salivating at the sight of him.

He’s uncut, tight foreskin taut, proudly encased in her hand, a deep red against the tanned skin of her palm. She looks up at him, knowing she looks _positively wrecked_ , and licks her lips.

“May I suck you, sir?” she purrs.

“My good girl, you want to choke on my cock?” he asks.

“Please, sir,” Toni breathes. He leads her head to his cock and she opens willingly for him, the first press of the velvety head hard and unyielding against her tongue. She rolls the head against her lips, tasting him. Toni slowly presses her tongue under the foreskin, circling the hidden head underneath, and Winter groans loudly, his hand in her hair tightening almost painfully. Toni moans at the treatment, nearly dizzy with the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Tonechka, such a good girl for me,” he breathes. Toni hums happily in response and starts working her head down the shaft, her hand tightening around the base. Her lips meet her fingers and she sits there for a moment, luxuriating in the feel of him inside her mouth, big and musky.

“You’re so beautiful like this, моя киска,” he pants, “with my cock splitting your lips wide. You’re doing so well, Tonechka.”

Toni moans around him, the praise lifting her higher, motivating her more to please him. She starts bobbing her head up and down, keeping her fist as close to her lips as she can, and then pulls back to his head and pulls down the foreskin just enough to wrap her mouth around the exposed head.

His hips jump off of the bed and Toni _whines_ , the throbbing between her legs intensifying.

The sudden shriek of the alarm goes off and Toni jumps back, startled, Steve’s voice shouting from the speakers.

“Avengers, assemble! We have a Loki sighting in Central Park! Iron Woman, Thor, you’re our only air support. Falcon, Captain Marvel, War Machine, and Hawkeye, you _will_ stay grounded until you sober up.”

Toni feels the fog around her snap like a band and stumbles to her feet, Winter catching her and holding her still.

“Tonechka, you aren’t fit to go in this state,” he says, his composure rapidly returning at the mood change.

“You heard Steve,” she says. “It’s _Loki_. We’re down four Avengers. I have to go out.”

“Are you okay, though?” Winter persists. “I’m worried about you being able to focus. You were very spacey, especially at the end, and I… wasn’t exactly gentle spanking you, either.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, pulling out of his hold and stumbling over to the dresser, pulling on a random pair of shorts and then closes her eyes, breathes in, breathes out, and lets the Bleeding Edge armor flow out of her skin to encompass her. “I’ll be back. It’s fine.”

Before he can say more, she steps over to the window and JARVIS unlatches it, throwing herself out it. She can’t focus on anything except the mission. She’s fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Тонька - Tonka, affectionate nickname for Antonia, like of like "oh that girl"  
> дорогая - dear  
> Верь в себя, Тонь. Что тебе терять? - Believe in yourself, Toni. What have you got to lose?  
> да - yes  
> моя киска - my kitty cat (feminine)  
> такая хорошая девочка - such a good girl  
> Моя хорошая девочка - My good girl
> 
> me: this can be three chapters  
> toni: hah you're funny  
> (aka hi I added two chapters)
> 
> the formatting messed up while posting, if you see any errors pls lemme know <3
> 
> hoping next chapter comes out this weekend x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta (and major cheerleading) for this chapter done by the wonderful Vania1824. all remaining mistakes are my own x and thank you to ruquas for looking over a scene for me and offering advice!
> 
> hover/check end notes for Russian translations (:
> 
> p.s. if you think something needs tagged pls lemme know

It’s almost noon by the time the Avengers are able to return to the tower. Toni lands on the balcony with Steve and sets him down, retracting the helmet and groaning. 

“If I never see Loki again, it’ll be too soon,” she mutters angrily. Steve hums in agreement, his hand on her shoulder catching her when she stumbles. 

“Do you need to go to medical?” 

“No, Cap, I’m fine. Just sore, promise.” 

Carol and Rhodey meet them at the door and, though obviously still hungover, start debriefing Steve. Toni sighs and heads toward her room, but stops when Rhodey calls out, “Tones, you okay? You’re still wearing the armor. Are you trying to hide an injury again?” 

Toni turns around and sees the three regarding her seriously. Toni shakes her head, a self-deprecating smile on her face. “Didn’t have much time to get dressed, Rhodey. I promise I’m fine; just exhausted.” 

Toni assumes Bucky must have heard the commotion because he’s suddenly _there_ , his hand against her cheek and earnest eyes examining her. 

“Hey, soldier,” she greets, nonplussed. 

“Hey, doll.” 

Toni’s exhaustion nearly doubles with him so close to her and she sags against him, letting the armor retreat back into her skin and pressing her front against Bucky’s chest, relieved she'd put on shorts before leaving. He gathers her up in a hug and Toni just breathes, relishing his touch, and then whispers, quietly enough the others shouldn’t be able to hear, “I need a shower and then some sleep. Wanna join me?” 

Bucky’s arms tightening around her waist is enough to soothe the aches in her muscles. He picks her up and heads toward their room, not surprised to see the water already running. Sending a short sense of gratitude JARVIS’s way, Toni lets Bucky undress her, and then the two of them are under the water and he’s massaging the pain out of her muscles. 

They don’t talk while Bucky washes her down, and Toni somehow manages to stay awake the whole time. She regards Bucky’s naked body with open appreciation, following the lines and curves and divots with her eyes. The scarring around his arm is darker than normal, hopefully just because of the temperature and not from inflammation, but Toni reaches out and lazily traces it with her fingers anyway, weakly smiling when his gaze meets hers. He’s truly beautiful, inside and out, and Toni’s not surprised at his lack of modesty. 

When he’s washing her back, he makes a high-pitched inquisitive sound, and Toni is confused right up until he runs his hands down her back and cups her ass. The bruises from Winter’s punishment the night before flare to life at the touch. 

Toni is simultaneously aroused and wincing from the contact, and yet she’s still pressing back against him, her hand flying out to the wall and dropping her head to her chest. 

Bucky breathes in sharply, examining the hand-shaped bruises and Toni’s immediate response to touch on them. 

“Didn’t really realize those would be so sensitive,” Toni mutters, her voice barely audible over the shower. 

“‘S gorgeous, sweetheart,” Bucky mutters, trailing his hands over the bruises for a moment more before moving on, washing her back instead. 

After he’s finished, he dries the two of them off, and then they’re collapsing on the bed, completely naked. Toni feels a faint nagging in the back of her brain, the part of her that’s scared of intimacy, but it’s easy to ignore it and focus on how relaxed she is with Bucky. They’re on their sides, facing each other, and Toni reaches out to put her hand over the center of his chest. 

“I wish I could murder Loki for interrupting last night,” she murmurs. Bucky’s hand lands on her hip and draws circles on her skin. Toni’s eyelids slowly start to droop. “Winter and I were actually getting somewhere and he interrupted us in the middle of it. Was so disappointin’.” 

Bucky hums, drawing his head closer and pressing their lips together, soft and sweet and beautiful. “Winter’s fine, doll,” he whispers when he pulls back. “ _You_ , on the other hand, need ta sleep now. Don’t ya worry your pretty head ‘bout none a that.” 

Toni blinks a few times before she can find the energy to respond. “Just… want to show him I care about him, too, not just ‘cause he’s part of you.” 

Her words ignite a light in Bucky’s eyes that she’s too tired to interpret, but is all too obvious when he kisses her nose and says, “I’m pretty sure he knows already, sugar.” 

Toni hums in acknowledgement, content, warm, and happy, and falls asleep.

* * *

Later that day, Toni is in the kitchen with Bruce assisting him with the evening’s dinner. 

Cuddling Bucky, waking up in his arms, feeling him surrounding her and holding her just a bit too tight and brushing his lips across her forehead… 

Toni’s knees are weak at the memory. She can’t hide the smile on her face nor stop the drifting thoughts from consuming her. She’s sure Bruce has noticed, and she sends a silent thanks his way that he doesn’t mention it. 

She zones out for a second when her hands are idle to check her schedule for the rest of the day and then, on a whim, the team’s. Steve, Natasha, and Winter have a training session after dinner to acclimate him to working with a team so as to clear him for Avengers duty. It’s scheduled to last for two hours. 

Toni wants to do something nice for him. She wants them to have their evening; wants to show him that she cares for him, too. And she wants to have it be uninterrupted. 

After the food is finished and dinner is served, she casually says to Steve that she’s working on a big project and not to disturb her tonight. She almost thinks he buys it, but the twinkle in his eye is just a bit too bright to be anything except amusement. 

Whatever. He can just ignore the blush on her face like everyone else is. 

Bucky gives her a short but sweet kiss before heading toward the elevators with Steve and Natasha, winking at her as the doors close. Toni feels like she’s touching a live wire. 

A haze of calm envelops her as she walks to her bedroom. She takes a relaxing bath, letting her sore muscles uncurl even more, and focuses Extremis enough to heal the bruising from the night before. As sure as she is that Winter would love to see his handiwork, she doesn’t want the pain to get in the way of anything. She then washes her hair, and finally exits the bathroom dry and refreshed. Winter should be finished in forty-five minutes, and Toni lays out the scene for when he returns, a soft pillow next to the bed on which she’ll kneel. She puts on soft makeup, heavy on the mascara and a deep red lipstick. Finally, she puts on the [final lingerie set](https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/gracelyn-plunge-underwired-bra-2777). 

Toni kneels on the pillow, ten minutes until Winter should be back, and closes her eyes, letting her mind drift.

* * *

“Батюшка мои…”

Toni blinks open her eyes to see Winter at the door, his eyes riveted to her. Toni lazily smiles, batting her eyelashes at him. 

“Hey there, handsome.” 

Winter’s grip on the doorframe tightens and she can barely make out the sound of the frame creaking. She’ll have to reinforce it again. She meets his gaze, the cacophony of emotions his attention on her elicits enticing. She straightens her back a bit more than it already is and almost feels shy about the situation. 

She’s wearing a lacey pink set: a gorgeous longline bra adorned with a bow on either strap and one between her breasts and an overlay of flowers made from black pleated lace; the high-waisted skirt holds up black nylon stockings, which barely covers the underwear underneath it, the back and sides completely transparent lace, the front a silky satin blend that is all that covers her decency. Toni is completely aware of how the outfit frames her body, accentuating her curves and chest beautifully. 

Winter walks forward, stopping in front of her, and reaches down, placing a finger under her chin and lifting, lifting, lifting, until her head is completely tilted back to stare up at him and her legs are straight at the knees. 

“Ты разбудила во мне давно забытое,” he mutters, voice deep, and Toni’s heart stutters for a second at the pure _romance_ and unexpected reality of having Russian poetry recited to her. She smiles up at him. 

“Just the two of us tonight,” she says, “uninterrupted. Made sure of it.” 

“Did you, киска?” His fingers have started to trail along her cheek, a soft exploration, and he circles her ear, tugging on the piercings found there. Toni hums, tilting her head to the side to help his perusal of her skin. 

“I did,” she agrees. 

He releases her chin but she stays where she is, her hands clasped in front of her, and he steps back, raking his gaze over her body. 

“Tonechka, моя киска…” 

Toni waits patiently for him to decide how he wants to proceed with the scene she’s laid out for him, and is rewarded when he pulls his shirt over his head, dog tags clacking together for a second before he hesitates, then pulls those off, too. He kneels down in front of her, his hand reaching out for her hair and tugging her by it toward his lips, meeting her halfway and biting her lower lip before his tongue flicks out to meet hers in her mouth. Her hands come up and settle on the front of his chest, one resting on the center of his chest and the other tracing along the seams of his metal arm. 

“You will call me sir again tonight,” he says. 

“Yes, sir,” she breathes against his lips, and then he’s back to devouring her taste, the trickling of heat inside her belly rising. He pulls her up with him so they’re standing. 

“Remove my shorts, Tonechka,” he says, tracing along the side of one of the cups supporting her chest. Toni reaches out and pulls the workout shorts down his hips, waiting for him to step out of them so she can place them to the side, then slides back up his body to stand pressed against him. “Good girl,” Winter praises, and Toni whines. 

She places her hands on his adonis belt, tracing the protruding skin with her nails. His hand is still in her hair, and he pulls her mouth to his again, the other reaching for the skirt and stroking along it, then down, following the line of the belt and dipping beneath the nylon stockings, rubbing circles into the skin beneath them. 

“The outfit is beautiful on you, киска.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Toni replies. 

“I want to see you laid out for me tonight. You went through so much effort to present yourself to me, didn’t you? I want to take in your beautiful offering.” 

Toni bites her lip as the throbbing between her legs intensifies, and allows him to move her how he pleases. 

He lays her down on the bed, hooded eyes following the curve of her hips, and unclips the straps from her thigh highs before he reaches around her to feel for the zipper on the back of her skirt, unzipping it and tossing it to the side. Toni shivers, arching her back further to give him a better view to enjoy, and bites her lip to hide a pleased smile at his darkening gaze. 

“Хорошая девочка, _good_ girl,” he breathes. “Put your hands above your head, киска. Don’t move them until I tell you to.” 

Toni quickly moves to follow his orders, barely in position long enough to register before he’s bending between her legs and licking at the wet fabric covering her. She inhales sharply, flexing her fingers and wanting to arch against his mouth. His hands slide up her hips and play with either side of the underwear, pulling it taut against her sex until she’s whining at the combined pressure of his tongue and the fabric. 

One hand reaches further up and cups her breast through the bra, thumbing over her nipple, and the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy, just a tease. Toni wiggles against his ministrations, and whimpers out a soft _please_. 

She can feel the smirk that graces his face against her thighs, and his tongue leaves the fabric and instead he’s nipping at the skin of her inner thigh to his right, biting down and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, and Toni cries out at the sharp prick of pain and pleasure it elicits. Winter catches her gaze, cocking his head to the side, and husks out, “You’re not quite attached to this clothing, are you, Tonechka?” 

The visceral image that sentence grants, of him so eager to get to her body that he leaves her clothes in tatters, is enough for a throb of renewed heat to shake her body, and Toni makes a broken sound, clenching her fists together tightly. Winter laughs and in the next moment her panties are ripped, torn away from her body and tossed to the side, and his tongue is on her again, running from her entrance to her clit in a long, smooth stroke. 

Toni lets out a sob and throws one of her legs over his shoulder, trying to draw him closer, and he draws both hands to her hips and _tugs_ until she’s as close as she can be to his mouth, sucking on her clit in the next second. The sensation is completely overwhelming, leaving her gasping and breathless, a white screen enveloping her vision. 

“Please, Winter, god, it’s _so much_ , sir, _please_ —” she begs, not sure if she wants more or wants him away or what, just knows she _wants_ — 

He pulls away and pets her thigh, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach, and soothes, “Shh, моя киска, I’ll take care of you. I always take care of what’s mine.” 

Toni is _dripping_ , and he must be able to tell how wild he’s making her—and that thought sends her a bit crazy; if just his _tongue_ can do this to her, what will she feel when he finally— 

His mouth is on her again, flicking her clit in between random suction, then back down to her entrance, teasing her there with soft kisses, then those broad strokes back up to her clit. It’s _so much_ , Toni can barely handle the pleasure, and it takes her by surprise when he presses two fingers inside her, crooking them toward him and dragging along the inner walls, and Toni arches against the intensity as he sucks _just right_ on her clit at the same time, the fire inside her crescendoing into an inferno as she comes, overwhelmed and sobbing and feeling like she’s shaking apart. 

When she comes back to herself, Winter is pressing kisses to her thighs, his fingers resting inside her still, and when he sees her gaze on him he starts rocking them, steady and slow movements. 

“Tonechka, you are so _responsive_ to me, so _pliant_ ,” he tells her, and the hand along her side grips tighter. “You are absolutely beautiful, моя киска.” 

His praise is like fanning the flames. Toni keens underneath him, and he rises up, his fingers never slowing or speeding in their fucking inside her, and he lays his mouth down against hers, letting her taste herself on his lips, and Toni whines louder, wanting nothing more than to drag him close to her. 

He kisses her for a while and then starts to drag his lips down her cheek, her jaw, her neck, and shuffles his hand under her to unclasp her bra. “You may remove it,” he says, and Toni moves her hands from above her head to follow his order, tossing the bra away, and then places her hands back above her. The action earns a pleased hum from him. “Good girl.” 

His head comes down on her nipple, laving the nub, and then he’s pushing three fingers inside her. 

“Oh god, _Winter_ —so good, I can’t—I love it—” She stammers out the words, unable to complete a full sentence, her mind too hazed over with the pleasure and aftereffects of her orgasm. “Please, let me touch you, please.” 

He bites down and Toni can feel the clack of metal against the back of his teeth. It sends a rush through her and she can feel the slide of his fingers easing even more as her body visibly responds. 

“Can you—” Toni pauses at a swipe from his thumb over her sensitive clit, a broken moan escaping her, and then tries again, “I want to feel you, Winter.” 

He pulls back his head and looks into her eyes, and after a moment he pulls his fingers out of her, shuffling his knees further between her legs, and then places the wet digits on her lip. 

“Suck, Tonechka,” he says. 

Toni opens her mouth and licks along his fingers, pulling them further into her mouth and laving away the wetness until they’re clean. Winter pulls them out and kisses her once, and then looks down at her pussy, pulling her folds aside to examine her hole. 

“Tonechka,” he says, and his tone is different than it’s been since they started, enough that Toni pulls herself down from the clouds just enough to focus. “I should have asked before we started. Is there a need for me to use a condom?” 

Toni shivers. “I have an IUD, so pregnancy isn’t an issue, and I’m clean. I’ve only been with Steve, and you know neither of you can carry anything, so I—I’m okay with… not. Using one, I mean.” 

He regards her face, his expression serious, and Toni thinks of him coming inside her, of his come dripping out and the heat from it filling her up, and can’t repress the gasp that escapes her at the thought. A smirk breaks out on Winter’s face, almost as if he’s reading her thoughts, and he pulls her hips closer to where he is. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and then he’s lining himself up and the head of his cock is filling her, breaching past her wet opening as if it were made for this, made for _him_. She exhales sharply at the sensation, and then he’s sliding the rest of the way in, his hips meeting her ass. 

Winter groans out, his hands flexing rhythmically against her, and Toni instantly needs _more_ , needs him to _move_ , needs him to fill her up and claim her and mark her and needs him to make her _his_. 

“Please, Winter, _move_ , I need—wanna feel you—” she gasps as he suddenly withdrawals and then _slams_ back in, ferocious and beautiful and as hard as she needs. He starts a steady pace like that, and she plants her feet on the mattress next to his hips and meets each thrust with her own, gyrating against him and luxuriating at the feel of him filling her again and again and again. 

“Oh god,” she whimpers. He changes the angle, and he’s passing along her g-spot with each thrust, and Toni almost spasms against him in overwhelming pleasure. “Winter, sir, _please_.” 

He growls above her and reaches out a hand to her throat, wrapping his fingers around it and _pressing_ , waiting just long enough for her to catch a breath before he’s cutting off her air supply and thrusting _faster_ into her, his other hand sliding up her stomach to her nipples, tugging and pulling, and then his head is coming down and he has one in his mouth again, and Toni can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but _take it_ — 

One more thrust against her g-spot is enough for her to wordlessly cry out and come again, and Winter keeps fucking her through it, finally releasing the grip on her throat but leaving his hand pressed against the skin, and then he’s pulling out and manhandling her onto her hands and knees, his hand going for the back of her throat this time, and he’s shoving himself back into her hard and fast and _deep_. 

“You’re so _tight_ for me, киска, so _perfect_ around my cock, taking me so well. You beg so pretty for me—going to fill you up, mark you, make you _mine_ ,” Winter growls out, his tone raspy and encompassing, and Toni feels dizzy with need, overtaken by her orgasm and the continued sensations of him on her and in her, and thrusts back to meet each of his as best as her addled mind allows her. 

“Just for you,” she gasps out. “Only you, Winter, I’m _yours_.” 

The sound he makes is almost a _roar_ , and then he’s shoving inside her once, twice, thrice more, and the throbbing and pulsating heat of his release drives Toni _wild_ , thrashing against him as nonsense words escape her mouth. 

She expects him to slow down, to release the grip he has on her, but instead he rolls his hips in short thrusts, the obscenely wet slide of him smooth and unhindered. Toni gasps, the realization that he’s fucking her with his come making her keen and cry out. 

“Oh, I’m not done, киска,” he gasps, his hips continuing lazily thrusting into her. 

_He isn’t even getting soft_ , even after having come, and Toni’s mind almost drifts away in the unimagined pleasure of her realization. 

“Push your right leg up the bed,” he says, and she does, bringing it directly even with her chest. He grabs her left leg and starts _rotating her body_ with his dick still in her, and then he’s sitting back on his haunches with her in his lap, the snarkiest grin on his face. He grasps her hips, keeping himself pressed inside her, and then stretches out his legs so she’s straddling him, and commands, “Ride me.” 

She groans loudly and places her hands on her ankles, leaning back to expose herself to him, and he moans out, dark pupils blown wide as he memorizes her naked body. Toni rolls her hips and she can feel his come sliding slowly out of her, onto his dick, and the mental image alone sends her soaring, pleased to present such a view for Winter, to show him the mark he’s left upon her body, _in_ her body. 

Winter’s hands reach for her chest again and he’s back to playing with her nips and the metal bars, his metal hand leaving the most delicious sensation against her overheated skin. She gyrates a loose circle for a bit and then switches to slow, drawn out rolls, lifting herself up enough to where his head is barely inside her and then twirling back down the shaft, the angle deep and filling. 

He reaches up and grabs her shoulder, pulling her down onto his chest and kissing her again, sloppy presses of lips meeting until they both simply breathe into the other’s mouth, too worked up to properly kiss. His thrusts up into her match perfectly with the tempo she’s set, and she leans down to bite a bruise into his collar. 

“Let me—” He snakes a hand between their bodies and reaches for her clit, swirling along it, and the added sensation is enough for her to speed up, almost slamming herself down onto his cock, and when his breath grows ragged and his abs tighten up, she begs. 

“Winter, please, I want you to come in me again. Can you come for me, sir? Fill up your _kitten_ and mark me so everyone knows who I belong to? I want it so bad, please, Winter—” 

“Tilt your head,” he demands, and she does so immediately, and he _bites_ on her shoulder, right over where one of the bruises from his fingers has begun to show, and Toni nearly screams as her orgasm flows over her, belatedly realizing Winter is coming inside her again. 

Toni deflates, collapsing on top of him as she sucks in giant breaths, her head dizzy and uncoordinated. She can feel his arms encircling her and his fingers softly walking up and down her back, a repetitive, soothing motion that brings her back down. 

They lay there and bask in the afterglow, and then Winter grunts and pulls her up, resettling himself so he’s completely flat against the bed. 

“I want one more from you, моя киска, on my face,” he declares, and Toni whines, overwhelmed and tired and oh too willing to do what he wants nonetheless. She can feel him dripping out of her as she pulls off him and hastily positions herself over his mouth. 

His tongue instantly finds her hole, those overwhelming broad strokes too much, too intense, and yet adding that extra sense of pain that drives her sensitivity to new heights. She can feel him licking his come out of her and she leans against the wall in front of her, staring down at his eyes as they catalogue each new expression on her face. She rocks her hips the tiniest bit against him, a small noise escaping her when his nose bumps against her clit. 

Winter continues to drag along her skin, collecting and swallowing every drop he’s spilt inside her. The burn inside her isn’t as intense, is like flowing lava rather than the initial eruption, and yet somehow it doesn’t take her long to fall over the edge again and come. 

She maintains her thoughts this time, lifting herself up with Winter’s help, and he rasps out, “Clean my come and yourself off me, now, Tonechka, and then you can rest.” 

Toni nods, willingly sliding off him and then down the bed, her mouth instantly going for his balls and soft cock, sucking the juices off. She sees a drop that fell on his abdomen and moves to lick that up, too, and then trails kisses back down to finish his cock, only stopping when his hand pulls her hair back. 

He pulls her up and she falls on the bed next to him, exhausted and pleasantly satisfied. He cuddles her close to him, and Toni kisses his chest, the sweat cooling on their bodies uncomfortably, yet Toni can’t find it in herself to care about anything but Winter’s touch and the looming presence of sleep. 

“You are beautiful in your submission to me, Tonechka,” he says, his voice gruff against the skin of her neck, so quietly she doesn’t think she was meant to hear. 

Toni shivers in response, a smile gracing her lips, and replies, “Anything for you, my Winter.”

* * *

Toni wakes up with a bone deep satisfaction filling her, the morning sun shining into her bedroom highlighting the body next to her. 

At some point in the night they must’ve moved, too hot and sweaty to cuddle, and Winter is on his side facing away from her, his breaths deep enough for Toni to assume he’s still asleep (not that his breathing pattern is an indicator of his wakefulness or not, she’s learned). His back rises and falls in a captivating pattern, and Toni simply lets herself enjoy this small moment of serenity before they have to return to the real world. 

She’s happy with the way the evening went last night—beyond _ecstatic_ nothing interrupted them—and smiles to herself at the pleasure Winter both gave her and took for himself from her body. His praising words were exactly what she needed, lighting inside her happiness, giddiness… emotions that still feel like such a shock to experience without guilt overriding them. 

Toni moves and begins running her hands over his back, tracing long forgotten scars that the serum never truly healed, and lets herself be overcome with everything Winter is, everything _Bucky_ is. 

She doesn’t know how long she lies there, but Toni startles when Winter stretches, flopping onto his back and gazing at her with his intense steel eyes. Toni smiles at him, scooting forward enough to press a kiss on his lips, cradling his cheek as she does so. 

“Good morning, my darling,” she whispers. 

“Доброе утро, киска.”

He draws her back in, his kisses soft in the morning glow, and Toni smiles.

* * *

Steve is _unbearable_. 

Toni walks into the kitchen, covered in Winter’s shirt and a pair of leggings, with a shirtless Winter trailing behind her. Steve’s look from the stove instantly has her blushing, and she looks away, shuffling from one foot to the other. 

Winter sits in his chair and pulls her down into his lap, nuzzling at the back of her neck and peppering kisses along her skin. 

“Good morning, you two,” Steve says. 

“‘Mornin’,” Winter responds distractedly. 

Toni blushes redder and mutters out, “It _is_ a good morning, Capsicle.” 

Winter huffs a laugh against her and Steve outright belly laughs, loading up a pile of blueberry pancakes and a side helping of fruit and placing them before the couple. 

“Here, something to help you recover your lost calories,” he delivers with a wink. 

“You are incorrigible, Steve Rogers! Next thing I know you’re going to have Natasha with you cornering me and demanding all the details!” 

“And what will I be cornering you for, красотка? You won’t be coming to me on your own?” Natasha says, sliding into the room with Clint. 

“Oh no, did you three finally bang it out?” Clint asks, horrified. “I don’t want _any details_.” 

Winter’s rumble at that is loud and menacing and Toni feels a small, pleased thrill shoot down her spine. 

“Tonechka is _mine_ , and I will not be sharing.” 

“Oh, I think Bucky wouldn’t mind sharing. It’s not anything we haven’t done before,” Steve remarks, completely offhandedly. 

Toni freezes, her eyes widening, and then firmly grasps Winter closer to her, laughter echoing around the room from Natasha. 

“Well, while that is… _interesting_ … I don’t think it’ll happen, Capsicle,” Toni snarks back, hiding a grin. 

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Winter huffs. 

Toni rolls her eyes and flicks his exposed nipple, an affronted sound escaping him at the action. “Feed me breakfast, дорогой мой?” 

Winter stills and glances over at her, an inscrutable look in his eyes, and then slowly nods, reaching for the utensils next to the plate. 

Steve and Nat continue to argue good naturedly back and forth above them, but Toni tunes them out, staring into Winter’s eyes and feeling a sense of completion.

* * *

“Toni, we need to get this merger completed or it’s going to cost us _millions_. Just, can you please do this for me?” 

Toni sighs, fiddling with the screwdriver in her hand. She glances up at Pepper, taking in her haggard expression and pleading eyes. She knows she hasn’t been doing as much for SI recently, distracted with Bucky and Winter and Avengers projects, and feels a small pang of guilt for overwhelming her friend. 

“Okay. What’s needed?” 

“Fujikawa Industries, they’re an up-and-coming energy business out of Japan,” Pepper announces. “Their representative, a Rumiko Fujikawa, is the daughter of the founder/CEO and heir to the company. She wants to partner with us as another female-led company and expand the energy business.” 

“What do you think?” Toni asks. 

“I think it’s worth looking into, at the least. You just have to go to Japan for three days max. Please, Toni. They wanted me, but I’m _swamped_ dealing with the recent fallout over the military and Hammer _again_.” 

Toni sighs. “Okay. Yeah. When?” 

Pepper hesitates for a second and Toni knows she’s going to hate the answer. As always, she’s right. “Can you be at the airstrip in an hour?” 

Toni thinks of her morning shower after breakfast with Winter, with the _fantastic_ wall sex and her strength kink _healthily_ revisited, and then of him leaving to allow Bucky a morning run and catch up session with Steve, since Winter had been at the helm a lot recently. Toni doesn’t want to leave right after; wants to instantly step in with Bucky and show him what he means to her. 

Hopefully she’ll be satisfied with seeing him while grabbing her go bag. 

“Alright. I’ll be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Батюшка мои - My Fathers (Similar to My God)  
> Ты разбудила во мне давно забытое. - You have awoken something long forgotten inside of me.  
> хорошая девочка - Good girl  
> киска - kitty cat (feminine)  
> Доброе утро, киска. - Good morning, kitty cat (feminine).  
> красотка - pretty woman/lady  
> дорогой мой - my dear
> 
> sorry for the delay, I had issues writing the smut (as in, this is my first time doing so, so any reviews letting me know how I did are highly appreciated orz)
> 
> thank you for reading!! last chapter will be up within a week (:


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta (and major cheerleading) for this chapter done by the wonderful Vania1824. all remaining mistakes are my own x

The negotiations go surprisingly well. Rumiko is a fierce woman, eager to take over as CEO as soon as her father deems her ready. The partnership-merger with SI is her baby, meant to solidify Rumiko’s capabilities, and Toni is duly impressed by the other woman’s competence. She can’t help but be sad and distracted, though, as the thoughts in her mind are thousands of miles away back in New York. 

“Tell me about them.” 

Toni glances over, eyeing the easy smile on Rumiko’s face. They’re enjoying some takoyaki nabbed from a street vendor and strolling in the early November evening breeze through Hinokicho Park. 

“Sorry, who are you talking about?” Toni asks, tilting her head. 

“The person you’re thinking of? It’s quite obvious you’re very distracted.” 

Toni flushes and aims quick, short bows toward Rumiko, who laughs at the display. “Ah, forgive me, Fujikawa-san—” 

“Please, call me Rumiko. We can forego honorifics outside negotiations.” 

“Rumiko, then. I’m sorry for appearing distracted. I’m a bit caught up in figuring everything out with the partnership and endless ideas I have running through my head. I meant no disrespect.” 

“The only disrespect you’re displaying is pretending I don’t know a besotted woman when I see one,” Rumiko deadpans with a raised eyebrow. 

“I—I—okay, you may be right.” Toni flutters around for a moment, takoyaki stick flying around in her hand, and settles at a light touch on the arm. 

“Tell me about them?” Rumiko asks again, a soft smile gracing her face. 

Toni dithers for a moment and then blurts out, “His name’s James.” She snaps her jaw shut and looks away, blushing furiously. 

It’s an odd feeling: she wants to shout about what she has with James and with Winter, wants to stop people on the street and tell them about this amazing man who has chosen her, wants her for _her_ and not for what she has to offer, money or connections or resources. Even still, she knows his identity is a secret, and she can’t give his actual name away. It’s a heavy, heady feeling, knowing how Bucky and Winter affect her, and Toni isn’t sure how she’s ended up at a point in her life where she can actually let herself be loved this way. 

She has a brief flash to Steve, of not feeling worthy, of fights and tears and broken teammates, and quickly shoves those experiences away. 

“James?” Rumiko hums. 

Toni looks over at her and feels a pang pass through her she doesn’t completely understand. “Yeah. He’s… everything I want and nothing I deserve.” 

Rumiko seems to get a contemplative look on her face at that and doesn’t respond. The two of them continue walking down the path in silence. Toni takes in the trees, the children playing near a pond, the relaxing atmosphere surrounding them, and smiles, grateful for so many distractions. 

“When you look at him, what do you see?” Rumiko says, breaking the silence. 

“I see…” Toni pauses, her mind hazing over, and then says, “I see home.” 

Rumiko nudges her with her arm, a faraway look in her eyes, and guides the two of them over to a bench. Rumiko turns to her as soon as they’re sat, a small broken piece of her being exposed only through her shining gaze. 

“I have never seen a more loving couple than my parents growing up. My father _adored_ my mother. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her. I remember my favorite moment between the two of them; it happened when I wasn’t supposed to be home. They were sitting in the garden, a small picnic between the two of them—I don’t recall the exact conversation, but I remember it was about mundane, everyday things—and then my father leaned forward, cradled my mother’s cheek, and whispered, ‘When I look at you, I see the rest of my life in front of my eyes.’” Rumiko pauses, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Of course, my mother passed away a few months later. But I remember the happiness between the two of them, how dedicated my father was to her, how there was nothing in the world he would not do to keep her happy. I hope someday I’ll be blessed with a person who looks at me that way.” 

Toni reaches out and grasps Rumiko’s hand. Rumiko wetly smiles over at Toni, completely immersed in the memory. She clears her throat softly, and then continues. 

“If what you feel for your James feels like home to you, Toni, don’t let him go. Anything can take you away from them, or take them from you. Don’t waste your life away worrying about what you may or may not deserve.” 

Toni breathes in sharply. 

_(“Don’t waste it. Don’t waste your life.”)_

She closes her eyes.

* * *

It’s a week before Thanksgiving when Toni returns to New York. 

Steve is puttering around the common area while on his phone, a projected screen from JARVIS following him around. Toni stops for a moment in front of the elevator, an exhausted smile on her face as she watches him. A thought has her connecting to his screen and she sees categories, organized by country, listing different foods. A glance at America’s easily tells her he’s planning an inclusive Thanksgiving dinner for everyone on the team. 

When his pacing has him facing the elevator, he stops mid sentence and says a farewell into the phone before striding over and lifting her into a hug. 

Toni falls into the embrace as easy as breathing, her head falling onto his shoulder and arms wrapping around his waist. 

“Missed you, Toni,” he whispers minutes later. 

“I missed you too, Wonderboy.” 

“I can think of someone else who missed you,” he mutters. 

Toni leans back from his embrace, her face lighting up. “Oh, _do_ tell, Rogers.” 

Steve taps his nose with a smirk. “Let’s just say you should make sure your schedule can be changed quickly.”

* * *

sooo… I heard someone has been a busy bee while I was gone ;) | sent 1304 

I have no idea what you’re talking about, doll. | received 1305 

oh really? so you *haven’t* been snooping around nyc for date spots? | sent 1305 

I’m gonna kill Steve. | received 1305

* * *

“Welcome back, sugar.” 

Toni beams, dropping her luggage inside the door and almost sprinting over to the bed, jumping into it and on top of Bucky with a boisterous laugh. His huff of air as she lands on his stomach only makes her laugh harder, the book he had been reading toppling off the bed. 

He flips them with a grin the moment he gets air back in his lungs, leaning down and peppering kisses along her face. He kisses her still smiling mouth, more a meeting of teeth than anything, and viciously begins to tickle her sides. Toni shouts and tries to scramble away, tears forming in her eyes even as she laughs harder. 

“Bucky! Bucky, stop! It’s too much, oh my god,” she gasps, the words barely coherent behind the laughter. 

He comes back up to her face and kisses her again. Toni loops her arms around his neck, intermittent chuckles escaping her between every odd kiss. 

_(“I see home.”)_

Eventually the two settle down, lazy kisses passing between the pair, until they’re simply breathing in each other’s presence. 

“Wouldya go on a date with me, doll? Tomorrow?” Bucky asks, his hand soft against the curve of her shoulder. 

“Yeah, Bucky. Whatever you want.”

* * *

The chill in the air is somehow refreshing as Toni and Bucky step out of the tower bundled up close together. Bucky holds out his hand and Toni clasps it, beaming up at him. 

They hail a cab from the tower and make their way to Central Park, stopping at some arbitrarily particular spot. There’s a horse-drawn carriage waiting just inside the park and Bucky heads toward it, making soft conversation with the driver while Toni pets the horse’s nose. 

“Here, doll,” Bucky beckons, and Toni turns to him and grasps his hand again, letting him help her up into the carriage if for no other reason than to see the beatific smile on his face. 

They nestle together as the carriage begins moving. 

“So tell me ‘bout the trip. How was Japan?” Bucky asks. 

“It went fantastic, to be honest,” Toni responds. “Rumiko—Fujikawa Rumiko, that is, the future CEO—reminds me so much of Pepper it was almost like whiplash, talking to Pepper on the phone and then turning to this spitfire of a woman and feeling the same way.” 

“She sounds like fun ta be ‘round.” 

“She was! She took me to a park and we got to discuss nonbusiness for a while. I’ve been to Japan plenty of times, but I’ve never really let myself indulge in the everyday culture and fun spots, you know? So she took me out a bit as a _‘late business lunch’_.” 

Bucky grins. “I’m glad ya got ta have a bit a fun while there. Still wish ya coulda stayed with me.” 

Toni blushes. “Maybe next time you can come with me, then.” 

He brings her hand to his mouth, grazing his lips against the glove. Toni feels her heart fill all over again with emotion for this man, a beaming smile overtaking her face and a short giggle escaping her. 

Casual conversation passes between them as they continue the ride, catching up on what they missed from just three days apart. Bucky’s arm rests across her shoulders and his other hand lays between them, Toni’s hands cradling it. The scenery passes slowly, and the carriage eventually comes to stop outside of the Pool. 

“Ma’am, sir, did you want to explore the Pool at all on foot before continuing on?” the driver asks, turning to face them. 

Toni looks up at Bucky, laying the plans in his court, and he shakes his head. “No, thank ya, we’ll be fine.” 

The driver nods and then they’re moving again, the rippling lake water passing by them. 

They continue on for a short while until they reach Belvedere Castle. The driver stops again and this time Bucky exits the carriage and holds out a hand for her. Toni steps off and lets herself fall into his arms. 

When they head inside they pass a sign reading Henry Luce Nature Observatory. Toni hums, rubbing her thumb against Bucky’s, and they enter into a separate room filled with natural history artifacts. Papier-mâché birds and skeletal heads are just two of the items on display. Toni takes the narrow, winding staircases first, looking back at Bucky’s handsome face with unbridled glee. 

They tour more of the castle until Bucky pulls her aside to one of the balconies, drawing her close and kissing her softly. 

How can one person feel so happy and content with another like this? 

They go back outside and reenter the carriage, taking a twisting path further south down the park. They use Bow Bridge to cross the Lake, Toni giggling at the sight of other couples enthusiastically taking pictures together with the Lake in the background. Bucky squeezes her hand and kisses her again, his thumb rubbing against her cheek. 

“Alright, you two. I hope you enjoy the rest of your date,” the driver says with a wink. 

Toni and Bucky exit the carriage, Bucky leaving a few parting words and a tip for the driver. Bucky grabs her hand and starts jogging toward the exit with a bark of laughter from Toni. 

“Slow down, Bucky!” she cackles. He simply turns around to face her and smiles, pulling her closer before slowing to a walk in front of 59th Street. 

“It’s not too far to our next destination,” he smirks. “Think ya can ‘andle a bit of a walk?” 

Toni chuckles and presses herself close to him. “Come on, old man, you’re the one cradle robbing of the two of us.” 

Bucky’s offended shock is more than enough to send Toni into titters again. 

It’s maybe ten minutes later that they reach Rockefeller Center. Toni hums in curiosity before she realizes they’re headed for the ice skating rink. She gasps. 

“I’ve never been ice skating before!” she exclaims. 

Bucky looks flabbergasted and immediately starts pulling her faster, nearly racing toward the entrance to the rink. Toni laughs at Bucky’s almost childlike wonder, and then they’re renting skates and Toni is wobbling out onto the rink while desperately holding onto Bucky’s arm. 

“Are ya tellin’ me,” Bucky whispers, barely holding back his mirth, “that _Iron Woman_ doesn’t know how to ice skate?” 

“Sh-shut _up_ , Barnes!” Toni hisses, her whole face lighting up red. 

Bucky _does_ laugh then, pulling her along as Toni nearly screeches in terror, desperately holding onto his arms. He draws her around the outside of the rink, avoiding the obviously experienced skaters with ease. 

“Stevie and I used ta do this, before,” Bucky says. “There was a parkin’ lot not too far from the ‘partment, an’ Ol’ Man Collins used ta spray it wit’ a hose in the winters, let it ice over and then invite all the neighborhood.” Bucky huffs, a wistful look crossing his face. “Stevie used ta be the most graceful person out there—‘course, he was bundled up in ‘bout e’ery jacket and hoodie we owned, so he looked a right sight—and it was one a tha only times dames would look at him wit’ anythin’ other than derision.” 

“Maybe we can bring him someday,” Toni offers. “Let the two of you properly teach me how to not fall on my ass.” 

Bucky laughs again, huddling her close and spinning them in slow circles. 

“Yeah, that would be real nice.” 

When it starts to get too crowded (and too many people start to look at them with that expression saying _I know you, where do I know you from?_ ), they leave, and Bucky hails another cab when they exit. 

“Ya hungry, sugar?” he asks. 

“Famished.” 

“Got just tha place.” 

They step outside in Greenwich Village, walking toward a solitary door and pushing it open. Toni immediately draws up short: she’s used to gorgeous, lavish restaurants, having been in _high society_ (thanks, Maria) her entire life, but somehow with Bucky, seeing the wooden podium for the hostess, the cherub statues, the electric candle lit chandeliers, the fireplace, the paintings, the _bar_ — 

“ _Bucky_ ,” she breathes, overwhelmed, and he smiles. 

They get a seat in the far back right next to the emergency exit, Bucky holding out the chair for Toni much to her embarrassment. The waitress takes their drink order promptly and returns with a bottle of red and they order their food. 

“How did you find this place?” Toni asks at one point. 

Bucky taps his nose. 

When they leave, the sun has set, and so they grab a cab for the ride back to the tower. While stuck in traffic and trying to take a detour, Bucky makes an interested noise and they exit the cab, walking up to a sign reading _Max Brenner Chocolate Bar_. They enter and Toni is surrounded with the smell of decadent chocolate. She barely holds herself back from moaning. 

“Yes. This is amazing. We’re never leaving.” 

Bucky laughs. 

The wind has picked up when they exit—hands ladened with bags of chocolate—and the traffic has worsened, rush hour and an accident putting the cars at a standstill. Toni hums and dithers for a moment before glancing at Bucky. 

“Wanna fly back?” she asks. 

The smirk is more than enough to reassure her that she’s made a good decision.

* * *

“Hey, Toni,” Bucky calls to her as she’s putting the chocolate away in the kitchen, a giant ‘DO NOT EAT (this means YOU Clinton Francis)’ sign in front of it. She turns away and runs into his arms, automatically being swooped up and swung around before her feet meet the floor. The grin on her face is infectious and Bucky smiles in response, cradling her cheek in his hand. He busses her forehead and then leans back, stepping back just a bit to fully look at her. 

“Hey, handsome,” Toni winks. 

Bucky’s face is soft, a hint of nervousness creeping into his gaze, and Toni squeezes his hand in reassurance. It seems to be enough for him to take in a breath, and then ask, “Was wonderin’ if ya might fancy goin’ steady with me.” 

Toni’s face lights up, a blush spreading over her cheeks. “Make it official, huh?” 

“If ya’d like it,” he whispers, a touch of nerves entering his voice. 

“Yeah, Bucky,” Toni answers, leaning forward to press a long kiss to his cheek. “I’d love to.” 

He reaches over his head and pulls off his dog tags, the metal clinking together, and hesitantly asks, “Would… Would ya wear these?” 

Toni pulls her hair to the side and ducks her head, looking up at him through her eyelashes, and smiles. Bucky slips them over her head, carefully pulling her hair through the chain for her, and Toni shivers for a scant second at the cool metal—both from the chain and his metal fingers—against her skin. 

“Come on,” she says, pulling him behind her toward the bedroom, the dog tags clacking together.

Bucky enters the bathroom while Toni slips out of her clothing, stretching after putting them away. She pulls her hair up into a lazy bun, not wanting to get it wet, and the movement swishes Bucky’s dog tags centered between her breasts. Bucky comes back out and his eyes darken, roving over her, and Toni watches him with a smirk. He walks over and cradles her hips, kissing her softly. 

“I started a bath for us,” Bucky whispers against her lips. “Can use one a th’ bath bombs you’re constantly on ‘bout.” 

“Oh, you’re gonna _love_ it,” Toni says, grinning up at him. She reaches for his shirt and helps him undress, and when they’re done they walk back into the bathroom where the bathtub (more like a jacuzzi, really) has filled up. 

The lights in the room are soft and low, an orange tint similar to candlelight lighting up the bathroom. There’s a bowl of chocolate, a bottle of wine, and two glasses on the lip of the tub, and JARVIS’s speakers are playing quiet music in the background. Toni tightens her grip on Bucky’s hand, her breath heavy for a moment as she takes it all in. 

God, Toni loves this man. 

“Okay, here,” Toni begins, trying to keep herself from becoming too emotional, and reaches into a basket near the tub to pull out a bath bomb. “Just drop it in the center of the bath and watch.” 

Bucky takes it from her and does as instructed, his eyes widening as it bubbles and foams up. Toni giggles at his expression and, once the bath bomb has dissolved, turns on the jets and steps in, humming in appreciation. Glancing over at Bucky, she sits in front of one of the jets and holds out a hand, inviting him to join her. 

Bucky steps in and Toni can’t help but to admire the movement of each of his muscles as the shadows from the flickering lights splay across his body. He sits next to her, reaching around her shoulders and drawing her into his lap, her back against his chest. 

“Here, do ya want some—” He grabs a piece of chocolate from behind them and offers to feed it to her. Toni feels fit to bursting, her emotions too overwhelmed, and simply opens her mouth to accept the morsel. It dissolves on her tongue like bursting starlight, sweet and smooth, and then he’s pouring the wine into the glasses and offering one to her. 

She can feel his dick nestled against her skin, half hard and showing interest, and Toni’s cheeks heat up knowing where their evening is headed, knowing that something as gentle as a shared bath and shared food is enough for him to have this reaction. 

She takes the glass and sips it, mixing the wine with the chocolate on her tongue, and hums in appreciation. Bucky smiles at her, offering another piece, and she lets her teeth _just_ graze over his fingers as she grabs it. 

They continue the bath like that, relaxing against each other and feeding each other chocolate while sipping on their wine. It’s only when his hand tightens on her hips, stilling her movements, that Toni realizes she had begun rocking against him. 

“Not yet, doll,” Bucky bites at her ear. “Still have somethin’ else first.” 

He pulls her up with him and steps out of the tub, opening up the drain and then grabbing the towels nestled close by. He swaddles her in one before wrapping the other around his waist; wiping her down with the towel and drying her until he’s satisfied, Bucky leads her out and over to the bed. 

“Lie down on your stomach for me, sweetheart,” he asks, and Toni does as he says while he reenters the bathroom and then comes back out with a bottle in hand. 

He straddles the back of her thighs, then uncorks the bottle and drizzles the liquid inside on her back. It’s surprisingly lukewarm, and when he reaches out and starts rubbing it into her skin, the feel of his metal hand mixed with the steadily rising heat of the oil sends a shiver through her. 

Bucky knows his body, knows his strength and what she can handle, and he displays it admirably by massaging just hard enough into her skin that she can feel it but not hard enough to bruise (not that Toni would necessarily _mind_ bruises left by his hands). His hands on her shoulders especially are enticing, and Toni can’t help but let out a moan when his thumbs rub along the nape of her neck. 

She can feel his cock, filled and exited, bumping against the curve of her ass with each jostle and movement from either of them. She can feel herself growing increasingly slick between her thighs, and it isn’t long until she’s gasping and rocking against him, her hands curled into loose fists in the sheets. 

“Bucky—” 

“Shh, doll, jus’ lemme take care a ya.” 

He doesn’t try to stop her rocking, so Toni continues, wanting the friction of him against her skin but not anywhere close to satisfied. His hands rub down her sides, and it isn’t long until he’s reaching for more of the oil and it falls down the line of her ass, eliciting a full body shiver from her. 

He doesn’t let it go far before he’s spreading her cheeks and a finger is collecting the oil, rubbing along her overheated skin and the raised flesh in his hands. Bucky’s hands are almost kneading against her ass, and then after an eternity he’s slipping his hand between her legs and crooking two fingers inside her wet heat. 

“ _Bucky_ , oh god—” 

Toni moans, a loud, drawn out sound, as he slides his fingers in and out of her, setting a torturously slow pace. The angle is bad, he can’t get his fingers all the way inside her, but the pressure and stretch along the opening muscle more than makes up for it. She rocks against him as much as she can, and his other hand circles her hip and encourages her movements. She’s close to coming, the day’s activities and the romantic atmosphere surrounding them too much, and when he dips a third finger between her thighs and rubs against her clit she’s _gone_ , orgasm intense and whiting out her brain. 

She vaguely feels him push her through it, and then his hands are slowly withdrawing and massaging her again. He scoots down the bed, rubbing along first one leg and then the other until she’s wound up again, wanting more, wanting to touch him and hold him. 

“Always wanted to do this,” Bucky suddenly says. Toni hums, letting him know she’s listening. “The whole, makin’ ya feel good, let ya relax into a bed, don’t have ta worry ‘bout a thing, just—lettin’ me take care of ya. You always work too hard, never let yourself take breaks when ya need them…” 

“I’m a busy woman, handsome,” she slurs out. Toni thinks she should be embarrassed but instead she’s just happy, blissed out and in love. “But I will _gladly_ let you do this whenever you want.” 

Bucky chuckles, his hands resting along her waist, thumbs rubbing along either side of her spine almost absentmindedly. “Don’t promise me things ya can’t keep, doll. I’d keep ya like this all th’ time if I could.” 

“Mmm, we could do that one weekend, actually,” Toni says, and then Bucky is working his hands back up along her spine, not even really a massage, but just touching, and Toni feels like she’s melted into a puddle. 

“I’d like that.” Bucky leans down, pressing a kiss on her cheek. He sits up on one knee and applies enough pressure to one of her sides that Toni gets the message, and rolls onto her back—and then he’s leaning back down, straddling her waist still, and he’s kissing her everywhere his mouth can reach: a brush against her eyebrow, a glimmer of attention to her nose, a wave of heat along her jaw, teeth scraping along her neck’s pulsepoint— 

“Do ya have any plans for this, sweetheart?” he asks softly. 

“I just want you, Bucky.” 

Bucky hums, moving his mouth to meet hers and supporting the back of her neck with one of his hands. After a few minutes of lazy kissing, he sits back up and a contemplative look crosses his face before he lets out a breath. 

“I saw what you and Winter did, ya know,” he announces. Toni nods her head, because she already knew that they always knew what the other was doing, even if they didn’t necessarily have control or access to the sensations—like watching a movie in first person. “You called him _sir_.” 

Toni bites her lip, a bit confused as to why he’s asking, but nods in assent anyway. “Yes, it’s—Winter likes being in charge, ya know? I figured he’s spent so much of his life having to follow orders that being able to give the commands is… well. I could tell he enjoyed it, got off on it. And I’ve—it’s tiring to give orders and have to make such giant decisions all the time. I can _handle_ it, no issues there, but it’s nice to just… let someone else take the choice away from me; let them choose what to do, make the decisions.” 

Bucky examines her and slowly nods his head, his eyes unfocusing a bit as he seemed to think. 

“Do ya wanna try somethin’ like that with me?” he finally asks. “Not as intense, just a light—you called me Sergeant, a while back, when I said ya were a good girl, and—” 

_(“You_ are _a good girl, ain'tchya? Pleasin’ me so sweet.”_

_“Thank you, Sergeant.”)_

Toni groans and reaches up, crashing her lips against his, her mind scrambling to keep up with all the sensations and emotions that come with remembering that particular moment. Bucky chuckles against her lips, a grin breaking out on his face, and Toni whines at how the kiss almost breaks because of it. 

He pulls himself back, laughter still falling from his lips, and his eyes are bright with adoration. “Yeah? Ya like it when I praise ya?” 

“Please,” she whimpers. 

“Think ya can call me Sergeant, then? Sounded so sweet fallin’ from those pretty pink lips of yours.” 

“Y-Yeah, Sergeant,” she gasps. “Like I told you, Bucky, whatever you want.” 

“Don’t go givin’ me carte blanche jus’ yet, doll. Maybe down th’ line, after we talk ‘bout it more.” 

Toni doesn’t respond—not sure she _can_ respond to that—and just lifts her hips as much as she can with him straddling her. He huffs out another laugh, maneuvering himself so he’s nestled in between her thighs instead. Bucky reaches up for her hair this time and starts taking it down from the bun, detangling the strands and coating it in the massage oil simultaneously (luckily coconut, Toni can smell, though she’d bet Bucky planned the type of oil he wanted to use for the massage with a purpose as simple as this in mind). 

“Ya wanna touch me, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, and Toni stops the automatic nod as she thinks of why he’s asking, thinks of Winter having her hold her hands steady, and bites her lip. 

“Yeah, I—Can I touch you, Sergeant?” she asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah, doll. Wherever you wanna.” 

Toni reaches up and runs her hands over his neck, sliding along his sweat-soaked skin and thumbing across his Adam’s apple. She continues tracing down his body, tracing her finger over one of his nipples, and she can feel his muscles contract in response. 

“Are you sensitive here?” she asks. 

“I’m sensitive anywhere ya touch,” he winks dramatically. Toni laughs at the display, meeting his eyes and tilting her head up, and Bucky meets her for another kiss. 

She explores the contours of his chest and stomach with her hands, and when she reaches his hips he shies them away from her, pressing his front against her body and pressing kisses down her torso instead, taking over the exploring. 

Toni shivers as he rubs against her nip, the skin pebbling up at his ministrations. His mouth feels cool against her overheated skin. 

She can feel his cock pressing against her thigh, and Toni decides she wants to feel more, rubbing her leg against the length, and his stuttering breath is a reward in and of itself. He bites down on her nipple in retaliation and she gasps out. 

“I wanna taste ya,” he suddenly announces, and he pulls himself up and rolls on his back next to her, looking over at her with a wicked grin. “Want ya ta sit on my face while I shove my cock down ya throat, darlin’.” 

Toni gasps again and immediately works to comply, almost ramming her pelvis on his face as he laughs at her eagerness, a groaned _good girl_ passing between them, and then she’s gripping his cock in her hands and stroking him with them, twists along the head as he pulls her hips closer to his mouth and licks his tongue along her clit. 

Toni’s head goes fuzzy and she removes a hand from his dick to slip down and press against his perineum, and his hips give an aborted jerk up toward her at the action. Toni giggles and licks along his length, pressing kisses every so often along the silky skin. She eventually moves her hand to cradle his balls, gentle and careful with them, and then draws them up toward his dick at the same time as she starts to guide him into her mouth. 

His groan is inaudible, but Toni can feel it where he’s pressed so close to her, and she rocks her hips down in response. His tongue probes at her entrance and then rubs inside, and Toni shivers as she continues to slowly, _slowly_ work her way down his cock. 

She bottoms out and can feel him pulsing against the back of her throat, and she works to keep herself relaxed, letting her muscles stimulate him as best as they can, and then when she starts to get dizzy and her lungs start crying for oxygen she pulls off him, breathing heavily and peppering kisses along his length again. 

It isn’t long until Bucky must become too impatient, because he’s lifting her hips up and saying, “On your hands, doll, on your hands,” and then he’s spinning her in the air in a massive display on strength and placing her on his lap, pulling her by her hair to his mouth as soon as she’s settled. She can taste herself on him and knows he can do the same, a hint of coconut mixed in as well, and Toni rubs his cock against her folds, the head catching against her clit and sending shivers down her spine. 

When they break apart the both of them are breathing heavily, his hands almost bruising against her hips and Toni’s cradling his head, fingers tangled in his hair. She grins at him and he responds in kind, belated giggles emanating from the both of them. 

“You’re the most gorgeous person I know,” Toni whispers. “Everything about you is beautiful.” 

“Think I should be sayin’ that ta _you_ , darlin’,” Bucky smiles back. 

His eyes slide down between them to where his dog tags are hanging from her neck, and Bucky hums, sliding a hand through her hair. “Sit up for me, love.” 

She does, and he positions her hips better over him, and then slides a hand between them and pushes two fingers inside her again, eyes dark as she instantly groans and rocks on them. He continues that for a few moments and then pulls out, satisfied. “‘N’ now hips up,” he breathes, and then he’s positioning his cock and rocking up into her, a quick movement that has them flush together quickly. 

“Sergeant,” Toni cries, full and wet and turned on, and he moves his hands to her hips and rocks her against him. She follows the movement, her hands splayed across his chest, and her fingers drift over to his nipples, caressing them in turn. 

One of his hands slides up her, reaching her breasts, and he kneads it in his hand. 

“Th’ sight a ya, sittin’ so pretty on my cock, doll, pleasin’ yourself—it’s beautiful, _you’re_ beautiful, so gorgeous, so perfect—” 

Toni shivers at the praise, a whine escaping her throat, and he capitalizes on the chance and moves a hand to her clit, rubbing and pinching it between two fingers until she suddenly jerks against him and comes again, her head falling to her chest and fingers scraping against his chest. 

She pulses around his cock, and Toni can feel him still thrusting up slowly into her, and when she can she gasps out, “Please, Sarge, I want you over me.” 

“ _Baby_ —thank ya for askin’ for what ya want, doll, so good, so sweet f’ me—” Bucky praises, and he pulls her off him and flips her back onto the bed, following and sliding right back into her, a smooth motion that leaves her gasping all over again. 

His thrusts speed up and Toni tries to match them, caught up with her mind cocooned in an odd place, feeling happy and loved and like she’s going to shake apart all at the same time. 

Bucky sits up a bit and reaches for his dog tags, catching them and holding them in his hand, and Toni shivers at how loved and owned and _claimed_ the action makes her feel. He slowly starts winding the chain up around his hand and Toni stutters as his hand comes to rest at her throat, the chain digging into her skin. 

“Love seein’ ya gaspin’, doll,” he croons. “So pretty, givin’ yourself ta me like this.” 

Toni whines and grasps his arm, tilting her head back more and straining the chain in the process. Bucky groans at that and tightens his hold even more, and it’s nowhere near enough to cut off her breathing completely, but the possibility of it happening and knowing it’s Bucky is what sets her off—he tightens again and she _cries_ , coming apart again under him, his name tumbling out of her lips as she feels him coming inside of her, too, following her off the edge. 

He collapses on her, releasing the tags and boxing her in with his arms instead, leaving frantic kisses across her neck and chest until Toni is whining again. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers, like a prayer, “can’t believe ya want _me_.” 

“Always you, Buckaroo,” she responds, tired and blissed out and happy. 

He leans up on one arm over her head, staring into her eyes and barely holding himself together, too, and then leans down and takes her lips. 

The urgent atmosphere fades away until he’s just rocking inside her, tiny nudges of his cock against her walls, lips pressing together as they breathe the same air. Toni reaches her arms up and wraps them around his shoulders, pulling him down into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder blade. 

“You’re pretty fucking perfect, Bucky,” Toni says. Bucky holds himself against her and shakes. “You’re perfect for me. And—I love you, ya know?” 

Bucky stills inside her, around her, his breathing cut off. Toni takes a carefully measured breath herself and says again, “I do. I love you.” 

He comes up and kisses her, tears in his eyes, and mutters against her lips, “I love you, doll, Toni, I love ya, too, so much—” 

She holds him close as he falls apart—over her, in her, around her—the words repeated like an overdue confessional between them, his tears finally falling on her face and mixing with her own.

* * *

Toni remembers thinking once that she would never grow tired of waking up next to Bucky Barnes. 

“Good mornin’, sweetheart.” 

She holds out her hand and he catches it between his own, his smile blinding and captivating and beautiful. Toni giggles, matching his smile with one of her own. 

“Good morning, handsome.” 

No. She won’t ever get over it. She can only hope to spend every morning, every evening, every _day_ next to him, taking in his presence, his warmth, his _everything_. 

She giggles between them, her happiness too much to control, and he leans forward and pulls her close to kiss her, morning breath be damned, and Toni lets herself forget about the lines, about the boundaries, about what she deserves, what Bucky and Winter deserve, what Steve may think, what the _world_ may think— 

She lets herself forget it all: focuses on how happy Bucky is, how his smile is not unlike the sun, shining down and lighting up everything she is, giving her a chance to prosper and grow. 

“I love you,” he whispers, holding her close to his chest. 

“I love you, soldier,” she responds. 

In this moment, nothing else matters except the two of them and what they mean to each other. 

Toni smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry this took so long!! I got major writer's block trying to figure out how I wanted it to go :c
> 
> but this is the end!! I really hope you enjoyed it x I have an alternate ending planned that I'll publish soon, so if you like steve/bucky/toni, please look forward to it!
> 
> thank you for reading my first marvel story!!


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